Today is Epiphany, as I mentioned before, though the day is almost over. It didn't occur to me until a year or two ago, however, that Epiphany, January 6th, is also the anniversary of my father's death. Having grown up without the church calendar, I always thought of it as the anniversary of my father's death rather than Epiphany. He died on January 6, 1985, which happened also to be Sunday, the Christian Sabbath. To add even further to significance of the dates of his life, I might note that he was born on St. Valentine's Day.
I sure there are plenty of fortune tellers and mystics that would love to read things into the convergence of these dates. I note them simply as a matter of curiosity. Nonetheless, they are a God-ordained curiosity, and an illustration of how strangely, from our perspective, God works at times.
And were it not past eleven o'clock, I'm sure I would have more to say about that. But I can't seem to muster any more energy by which to do so.
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