Yellow Skies

I just finished breakfast with my younger daughter, in the kitchen alcove, looking out at the yellow sky. Funny how I only really ever notice it do that in winter, usually when it is colder. Maybe it is because the sun always beats me awake in the summer. I've taken the day off work today, because I have to... it was just not in me to rush off after work to the convent and put myself in the Cursillo frame of mind. I also have to practice all the music I will be doing.

The music actually started last night with the Grand Ultreya. The Ultreya was a tough hurdle I had been nervous about crossing. I was quite frightened about how that would turn out, and not without some reason. I always write songs that are too hard for people who just strum guitars casually to play. But it worked out, and one of the fellows in last night's group is a great guitar player who knows how to take songs and simplify them for others. The group's keyboard player was the featured speaker last night, and he focused his talk on music, and the part it played in his faith journey - so I was glad I had been moved to invite him into the group.

I saw a lot of old friends last night. I was so busy with the music I hardly had a chance to speak to them, but I do think they understood. And I am so relieved to have one of the big hurdles out of the way - now I can relax and watch God take care of the rest. Tonight I will be staring out at the hills where I grew up from a convent window, and I know it will bring me great peace.

I would have lost heart, unless I believed
That I would see the goodness of the LORD
In the land of the living (Psalm 27:13)