Choices
Sunday. I am sitting on my front porch, staring off into the distance a bit. Next to me, a bag sits with several books in it. Books that I will probably pick up and read at some point. I need to keep my brain entertained somehow. A few miles away, my church is having its first meeting in months. People are singing, praising, worshipping. Celebrating. I am not there. Just a couple of weeks ago, I would have told you that I would have been there with bells on. I had already purchased a new outfit for it. (Two, actually. I was trying to choose between two outfits.) Yet here I sit, wearing shorts, no makeup, my newly-cut hair tied back. Both outfits still hang in my closet. Over the last few days, I have been following the numbers. 225. 222. 450. 336. And just a few minutes ago, 478. Numbers of daily positive COVID-19 cases in Oklahoma. Many of them in Tulsa County. Where, incidentally, a rally was held just yesterday. An indoor rally with little social distancing and few masks. An
