I risk outing myself as a sentimental old sap with this post, but I’m prepared to take that risk. Today is May Day, my favorite day of the year. Fourteen years ago today, I started as student pastor of a church. It was the summer that everything went right. I found out that I love pastoring; I reconciled with a brother (I had held a grudge for a while); I lived in the most beautiful part of Toronto and walked High Park almost every day; I fell in love. It was the type of summer they make movies about. My life that summer followed all the movie formulas to their predictable conclusion. It was the first summer that it really hit me how beautiful May 1 is. You can argue whether or not spring has started in April; there’s very little doubt on May 1. I almost missed it, but I’m glad to see that May is finally here.