My mom blames it on the time change. It's a tribute to our reigning bureaucracy that in a country whose agrarian prime peaked a century ago, we still celebrate the equivalent of a biannual electric shock in observance of daylight savings.
|No, seriously, the minor side effects of electric shock describe exactly how daylight savings time makes me feel.|
I don't know what sheep do without a shepherd. I can only imagine it's something like how my dog acts when I'm gone for too long: she's unsettled, can't sleep, paces from room to room, little disturbances make her startle, her world isn't right.
And that's just how I've been feeling lately.
Yes, we have THE Good Shepherd, like in The 23rd Psalm. But Jesus must have known we'd be pretty lost without an actual, physical shepherd here on earth, to care for, feed, and nourish us. Because He asked the fallible, impulsive Peter to do just this, followed by 266 others over the past 2000 years.
Without the vicar of Christ on earth, the prowling lion just feels more threatening.
Welcome Pope Francis!