After the Chrism Mass yesterday in Charlotte (well over 400 miles round trip for me), I stopped by my neighbors to the hermitage. Long time readers will recognize these flowers at this spot. They come back every year and look like a falling star, bright white trails of brilliance in their glory. These have now died. As Jesus says about those of us who die, in dying, like a seed, we bear much fruit, dying to ourselves to live for Jesus, even in the midst of all of our weakness. Granny died and we spoke about the coming funeral, when I get back from Rome. The saints often say that they will be much better for us on the other side of the grave, as they will be lifted out of any weakness and distraction. Heaven will be heavenly. But here those things are not holding us back but rather pushing us toward our Savior.