Field and Fountain, Moor and Mountain

By Cynthia Ruchti

Do you suppose the wise men made their entire journey without doubt?

When they traveled from the East, a trip that according to tradition may have taken years, what are the odds that none of them ever complained? Or wondered about the wisdom of their decision to follow a star?

Can you hear the discussion around the fire after an especially trying leg of the journey?

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Sleeping Through The Night

By Cynthia Ruchti

How old was Jesus when He first slept through the night?

A friend of mine has a newborn who can’t go more than a couple of hours without reminding the household she exists and has needs.

I wonder how old Jesus was. Two months? Four?

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Humbled By The Thought

By Cynthia Ruchti

If asked to name someone who exemplifies true humility, who would, you choose? Let’s say Jesus is off limits, because, frankly, He’s off the charts when it comes to humility. Name a contemporary. Famous or infamous.

Having a hard time? Mother Teresa came to mind, but she’s no longer a contemporary.

Why is humility such a radically obscure concept in today’s world? Why is it so foreign a thought that we struggle to think of a single living example? And how will we ever teach it to our children and grandchildren if we can’t point to someone and say, “See? Like that!”?

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Anywhere But Where I Am

By Cynthia Ruchti

Alanna ran through the concourses to her gate, and then sat for nearly an hour waiting for the attendant at the desk to call her name from among the dozen other stand-bys hoping to get on that plane. She eyed the gates near hers. Denver. Detroit. Dallas. Des Moines. Duluth. All the “D” locations. Any one of them would do.

“Alanna Blake?”

She barely caught the announcement above the din of stir-crazy toddlers and people mid-conversation on their cell phones. “I’m sorry, Ms. Blake. This flight is full. All passengers have checked in. We have another flight later this afternoon, but prospects are iffy for that one as well.” “The destination doesn’t matter. Can you get me on a flight to…what’s boarding for other locations right now?” The gate attendant looked up from her computer. “Where are you headed?” “Anywhere but where I am.”

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Cross Country in the Rain

By Cynthia Ruchti

Rain? More sleet than rain.

As I drove with the heat cranked up as high as it would go and the vents blowing on my feet and face at the same time, huddled over the steering wheel as if it were a glowing log in the fireplace, I noticed a handful of young people in shorts and t-shirts running along the side of the road. On this ugliest day in the history of ugly, the high school’s cross country team members showed up for practice and ran…in the sleet.

Behind the handful of runners came another bunch, and another. While I bent over my steering wheel in the comfort of my vehicle, they leaned into the wind and rain, their legs pumping, arms slick with the precipitation that coated the sidewalks and roadway. One foot in front of the other. Silent. Focused. Plodding forward despite the Terrible, No Good, and Awful Day.

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