A Rose, a Thorn

I ventured out last night for dinner and live music.

My son played his trombone with a jazz band, and sang scat solos with a choir. I was so glad I was well enough to be there. At the end of the evening I got to be part of the "congregation" while jazz artist Louise Rose sang and played and talked and-- well, ministered. I was genuinely blessed to spend an hour in her presence. Her performance had a healing power for me.




Today, however, the resultant clouds of depression are gathering. There is a price to be paid for pushing my limits.

And so it goes.





Credit goes to her website for the picture of Louise Rose and to this photographer for the thorn.