Cast all yur cares

I hit forward on my email and pass the problem on to the next person and delete it from my inbox, never to trouble myself about it again. All the time. Every day.

Why can't I forward each of my problems to God and hit delete?

The streams on earth I've tasted

Perhaps the more I learn to see and hear and appreciate beauty on earth, the more wowed I will be by heaven. Perhaps earth is an art appreciation course for heaven.

I feel heaven at the most random times. It's always a surprise, and can never be contrived. I can't demand a sign, but I can wait for one, hope for one, be ready for one. A sign that beauty is all around us, and there's so much more to be discovered, and that I'm not crazy to look for it, and that it's seeking me and wants to enrapture me.

That part of the Pirates II soundtrack bursting through my iPod and adding a spring to my jogging steps. The lushness of my "babies" blooming away in their pots on the balcony. The curiously random yet orderly spread of elm branches which can only be seen by one who dares to lie in the grass and look up. Beauty is found in the smallest of things. The cracks in heaven's wall are tiny slivers and require creeping up close and pressing one eye to the hole.

We were made for euphoria, but for now we get crumbs and teasers. Let us feast on these and follow our noses for more.