From the editor ...

It’s early May as I write this, and East Tennessee is waterlogged.

It’s been raining every day for what seems like forever. Roads have become potholed rivers, rivers have swelled well beyond their banks and people are cranky.

This morning as I prepared for work, I opened a window to listen to the steady splash of raindrops on the leaves of the dogwood just a few feet away.

I was intrigued to hear birdsong – not just a few half-hearted cheeps or trills, but full-throated Hallelujah-Chorus-isn’t-it-a-marvelous-day song.

I considered: The birds were undeniably wet, soaked to their very tiny bones, and they had been for days.

Then I heard a human neighbor on the next street suddenly break into a solo fronting the bird chorus and worthy of Broadway in volume and exuberation: “Oh, what a beautiful morning ...”

What exquisite timing.

As my grumbly Grinch-like heart expanded, my spirit lifted in thanks and praise to the Creator who gave me the gift of another day.

— Sharon Rasmussen