Central Minnesota is a good place to celebrate All Souls’ Day. By November, the oaks are newly stripped bare, leaving the evergreens standing puzzled and bereft. “Where is my neighbor, my sister, my friend? She has gone where I cannot follow.”
The grass is frosted, but the sun, hot and hard, seems to promise more the eschatological spring than the distant approach of another Minnesota April.
I, too, am feeling a bit bare at this time of the season, but today I am content. I want only to be renewed in the image of Christ. Lord, come quickly!
Lord, hold in your hand the people you created in your love. May we and they be granted the peace that comes only in your presence, through Christ our Lord. Amen.