I broke the kitchen window of our house. I was mowing the lawn when the mower struck a rock and threw it into the window, shattering it. I consider myself very lucky. The rock could have flown in almost any direction. Had it struck me, there would have been a significant injury, probably to a foot or leg. I’m cautious not to mow when our grandchildren or pets are around, but my imagination quickly reinforced that practice. The flying rock could have hit a child. Previous owners of our home did quite a bit of landscaping with small rocks and pea gravel. We have removed some of those rocks, but others remain. They don’t often get out into the grass, but once was enough to send us on a window repair journey.

Yesterday I read an online story about something found in the grass at a home a couple of hundred miles east of where we live. According to the Grants County Sheriff’s Office, a 3-year-old found a live World War II-era grenade in the front yard of their home and brought it inside. The child’s parents called 911, and the Washington State Patrol Bomb Squad was dispatched. They determined that it was indeed a live grenade, and it was removed from the home and safely detonated in a remote area.

That story got my attention. I have a 3-year-old grandson who loves to dig up things in the yard. I have to supervise him because he likes to pull weeds, but lacks discretion and occasionally pulls out flowers and other plants we’ve intentionally planted. I’m grateful that the grenade found by the 3-year-old was dealt with safely, but I’m betting those parents are going to keep a close eye on the child for some time whenever outside play is involved.

Then I thought, “Imagine hitting that with a lawnmower!”

It's a hassle getting the window repaired. It is a double-paned window, and only the outside pane is broken. We may need to replace the entire window. It’s on my list of projects to tackle before winter sets in. I don’t want to have workers trying to replace a window when it is raining. Our lawn is small, and I usually only sharpen the blade once a year. However, this year I’ll be replacing it early.

Still, good fortune has been on my side, and I can count my blessings that no one was hurt. I have a spare blade for the lawnmower, so I can replace it and sharpen the one I removed at my leisure.

Another article I read online reported a FBI raid that discovered 57 victims of forced labor living in cramped quarters at a lavish Florida mansion where a church leader lived. According to the U.S. Department of Justice, the leaders of the Kingdom of God Global Church have been accused of forced labor and money laundering. The scheme involved forced laborers working in call centers collecting donations without being paid for their work.

I worked as a pastor for my entire career and still serve congregations with pulpit supply from time to time. None of the churches I ever served managed to receive enough donations to purchase a mansion. Of course, it never occurred to us to establish a call center to solicit donations. We asked our members to support our ministries and learned the art of careful budget management.

I consider myself fortunate that I was never involved in any large-scale financial operations during my time as a pastor. We conducted several capital fund drives to cover the costs of building upgrades and repairs, and became proficient at estimating income and planning expenses to match. The reserves of a congregation are held in the accounts of its members and are only tapped when a genuine emergency exists. We never needed to have large endowments or significant cash reserves in the churches with which I was affiliated. I never experienced an FBI raid. Had one occurred, I would have probably offered the agents coffee. I was friends with several FBI agents when we lived in Rapid City.

Like others, I find reading the news to be anxiety-producing. The main headlines of major newspapers often report stories that cause me to worry about the health of our planet, the rise of violence, the increase in authoritarianism, the spread of disease, attacks that kill innocent victims, children who are starving, and hundreds of other world events that cause me to feel unease. When the headlines get to me, I skip the articles and head to the bottom of the page on the computer where human interest stories are located. There, I find stories that make me chuckle. I find out about the World Jigsaw Puzzle Championship, and curling’s biggest scandal, and that Amazon still sells a t-shirt labeled “wife beater.” That’s a product I’d never buy. I’ll copy a recipe for red lentil soup, but then I'll fail to make the soup. Sometimes I read reviews of movies I’ll never see and books I want to check out from the library. From time to time, I come across a story that inspires a journal entry. Sometimes I combine several stories in a rambling, disconnected piece.

The Mona Lisa is arguably the most famous painting in the world. I braved the crowds to get a glimpse of it when we visited the Louvre in Paris. The painting hung on the walls of palaces for 400 years. It was a popular painting. At one point, it had its own mailbox to receive people’s love letters, but it didn’t truly gain world fame until August 21, 1911, when it was stolen. The theft became front-page news. It took over two years for it to be recovered. By then, there were many more people who wanted to see it. According to museum officials, approximately 30,000 people view the painting each day.

It never occurred to me to write a love letter to a painting.