My grandparents owned a small service/gas station and motel in the Ozark mountains of Missouri. There was a small general store and their living quarters were a few rooms in the back. There was a lovely, warm kitchen that you could see into from the general store and there was always something cooking, the aroma enveloping you as you came into the front door of the station. There was a long counter with stools that twirled and that was where home cooked meals were served to weary travelers.

For the past 5 years, Barbara and I have made it our gift to each other to go to a beach a few days after Christmas. So, it’s a sunny and seventy-five degree New Year’s Day 2021. We’re mostly shaded by our umbrella. Barb’s caught up in a murder mystery and I’m watching the pelicans fish. I’m also reading a book, it so happens, on fishing. It’s about fishing for folks like Jesus called his disciples to do.