Sitting in my overstuffed chair watching the snow fall more than halfway through April is hardly the stuff of serenity for me, and yet somehow this evening I find that I bear no resentment toward the snow even after she nearly killed me on I90 trying to get to my priest fraternity gathering. I made it as far as Sturgis before contemplating abandoning my plans, but the couple of miles between Sturgis and the National Cemetery were enough to convince me. A wasted 36 miles on slippery roads? Oh well. It is wet, and wet is what this dry old land needs.
This serenity that I experience has little to do with the weather. Rather, I am a man in love. Having nearly accomplished a year in my current assignment, I find that I am deeply content. These are my people. I am their priest. They trust me. I trust them. If we were a couple, we would be approaching the stage where we could freely flatuate in the presence of the other.
In a word, I am content. I've learned a great deal about loving in the last few years. I think I'm getting the hang of it. I wonder if that means they will have to move me again.
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