My grandfather used to sit me on his lap and tell me stories of time. I thought about this as I read an essay written by author, poet, statesman and thinker T.S. Eliot. I don't believe that he was the greatest of men and I don't believe all his thoughts were of great value. But that doesn't make him any less important to my perspective. The post below is a product of reading and evidence of my weaknesses, which are the uncontrollable urge to purge my brain of thoughts and essays to paper.
You've unwittingly become a victim or benefactor (is your cup half-empty or half-full?) of my blog nation! I've produced my "purge" for you below. You may read or not, concentrate or not, listen or not. For those whom the following essay bores you to tears, let me offer you the bottom line--preserve your history and its traditions. In them are ways we acknowledge that God is and that time truthfully exposes Him.