Thursday, April 26, 2012


I write note and leave them on my desk. Usually, I remember what they are, but some have no meaning at all. On one sticky note, I wrote two seven digit numbers. I don’t know what they mean. I must have known at one time. On another, I wrote “Theme of Ruth.” Not sure why, but I did. On another, I’ve listed seven names. Again, I’m not sure why. The bigger question is why haven’t I gotten rid of them.

Notes are like messages from someone in our past. They knew something and wanted to communicate it to us. Sometimes they are successful. Sometimes they are not.

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