Lynn and I were in Phoenix last Friday evening at the sunset. There had to be at least a thousand Jewish brothers and sisters at Frank Lloyd Wright's Biltmore Hotel, all dressed up, all talking loudly, many laughing, some crying, kids and moms and dads and uncles and aunts and grandparents and Kosher food--we were caught up in the middle of it all, accidentally, again, exactly where we're supposed to be.

 We flew to Arizona for yet another of my daughter's weddings (Four down, only one to go!) and mingled with the Mormons--all dressed up, all talking loudly, many laughing, some crying, kids and moms and dads and uncles and aunts and grandparents and lots of Mormon food-- we were caught up in the middle of it all, accidentally, again, exactly where we're supposed to be.

 I imagine, honestly, had we been with Baptists or Buddhists, Mennonites or Muslims, we would have found ourselves caught up in the middle of it all, accidentally, again, exactly where we're supposed to be with lots of good food.

Exactly where we're supposed to be---

Free of prejudice.

Free of anger or blame or conceit.

Free of failure, free of falling, free of fear---

We no longer have to lie or deceive or worry or fret or walk around feeling like life is a mine-field of egg shells.

That's Hell.

Heaven's where we feel fine about it all. Heaven's where we give it all up. Heaven's where we're not enough of us at.

And, ending that sentence with a preposition, let's end this one with a proposition:

What would happen if we were to find ourselves caught up in the middle of it all, accidentally, again, exactly where we're supposed to be? Would we find ourselves in Heaven or would we find ourselves in Hell?

Well, it's a choice, a daily decision of looking for the good in everyone around us and maybe finding a little good in ourselves.

It's a hard habit to make, an even harder habit to break, this thing called Love.

Above all else, Love Thy Neighbor and just about everything else will work its way out.

Marley Porter