My scallop-shell of quiet

A Differant Sort of January and Habakkuk's God

2012-02-07T18:13:00.000-08:00

It has been a January like no other and I can say I'm ever so glad it is behind me.

January has always meant cleaning out closets, putting order where clutter festers, and reading the book of Deuteronomy.

I began Deuteronomy, some clutter was routed and other than that, nothing. It was a month of blizzard conditions. Much of our area was without power. With grateful heart I report that Mercy saw to it we remained lighted and heated.

The month was mostly spent in this ER, that doctor's office, that hospital room. Much has been learned through this and much reflection over the year has been made. (More on that later)

There were bright spots to be sure. The church where we have served for 10 years put on a lovely 'retirement' party for us. Forty years of ministry was acknowledge by the coming of many from far and near. That afore mentioned snow business hindered many from attending. However, in His way, as is always His way, the Lord brought just the right people and gave the perfect measure of grace and strength for the event.

Now we go forward in the days ahead - into the unknown as always, but assured - finally and again - of the One who leads the way.

These have been testing days, long days followed often by longer nights, but here we are. And through it all, the stored up promises of scripture and hymnody have been what carried and kept the mind in order, the spirit fresh, when there was little time for little more than snippets and sips of the water of the Word.

And once again, I stand next to the prophet Habukkuk taking comfort in his words penned so long ago. These are words to which I've run clinging so often through the years.

The Chaldean hordes may have threatened but God proved once again to be the Everlasting Rock. Dreams and plans lay in crumbles but "the earth was filled with the knowledge and the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea." All so often seemed hopeless, helpless, lost, with strength gone and the fabric of life unraveling and yet.... AND YET! That glorious, resounding, magnificent 'nevertheless', those grand familiar words of so long ago calling out once again from the watchtower.

Though the fig tree may not blossom,

though no fruit is on the vine,

though the olive crop has failed

though the fields give us no food,

though the folds have lost their flocks,

and in the stalls no cattle lie,

YET in the Eternal we will find our joy,

we will rejoice in the God who saves us.

The Lord, the Eternal, is our strength,

He makes our feet sure as the feet of hinds,

and helps up to keep our footing on the heights!

Praise His yet again!

~James Moffatt trans.

A Rousing Prayer for the New Year

2012-01-04T09:49:00.000-08:00

Frank W. Boreham

1871-1959

Frank Boreham's writings are among my favorites. There is a shelf of him, well as shelf and a half to be more accurate, in my cloister chair corner. Forty titles in all, and this is not all of his books. I have read my forty all, at least once. Some repeatedly.

Today's quotation begins a compilation Daily Readings from F. W. Boreham. Mine is a battered paper back copy, a treasure found in a used book shop in North Bay, Ontario. It is a treasure by its content but also because it was found on a most memorable trip trans-Canada the Husband and I made in 2000.

Boreham was a preacher, pastor, essayist. He had the poet's gift and the human touch. He was staunchly evangelical. He wrote with gentle humor but also thrilling passion. While his writings sometimes seem too sanguine, possibly verbose for our times, still Dear Reader, I recommend him to you. He will lift your spirits, open your eyes to the common place wonders of Creation, and encourage your walk with the Creator.

"Come, O Thou Conqueror Renowned", I cry,

"and repeat on the battlefield of my heart

Thine ancient and glorious triumphs!

In all my daily warfare with the world, the flesh, the devil,

let me feel Thee slaying Thine old-foes all over again!

By Thine Almighty Power -

the Power by which the worlds were made;

the Power of Thy resurrection -

secure in me the victory

over everything that cools my affection for Thyself,

over everything that impedes or arrests my spiritual pilgrimage,

over everything that obscures my vision of life's real issues

and of life's true goal!"

The faith that overcomes is a living faith in a Living Conqueror.

I place my hand in His.

...gang aft agley-ing

2012-01-03T14:23:00.000-08:00

[With a slight nod to Robby Burns who said it first about the best laid plans of mice and men.]

Truth to tell, there are two sets of plans. Always.. man plans and God plans.

The grand finale here was planned for Christmas Day in the morning. All the children and grands, geographically able, would come to share the final worship service with us for the Patriarch's last day in the pulpit. A retirement, it was labeled, but it was oh so much more than that.

For our family, it truly was an important event. Generations of preacher/pastors have been the way of things. With this leaving, the line at least pauses until we see who the Lord may raise up in coming generations.

To make this closing a reality, some of the family units put aside their Christmas plans already in place in order to come. Others were scheduled to join our table for dinner following.

The day dawned. The Preacher was unable! Swift calls were made "if you haven't left yet..." sort of calls. Those coming from afar had indeed left yet and in fact were nearly at our door.

Because the change was sudden, alas, I was still sporting my not so glamorous, mismatched early morning attire. [Isn't it sad how we go for comfort when we don't expect callers? - the elegant pink fleece Laura Ashley remained in the closet.]

Group by family group began assembling. [I did manage to dress appropriately on one point, although the Stewart plaid slippers remained for the day.]

As it turned out, it was a lovely day, a fine gathering. The comings and goings of all over-lapped so that each saw the others. That hadn't happened on a Christmas Day in donkey's years. There was much gentle visiting. Each of the children and grandchildren had alone time with the Dad/grandpa. Also a rare happening.

Those that needed to go, went and hopefully with joy. Those who remained ate the planned meal and with joy.

The only traditional element that remained that day was the singing of the Doxology after the prayer, before the meal. The harmony, the spirit are always meaningful. Some how through the years, this has become the centerpiece of any gathering.

So the day's plans were quiet turned on their head. But as it was, our God-planned day turned out to be sweetly memorable in every way. The Ending didn't take place with fireworks and bangs and a cast of many, but rather with a soft sighing and in the bosom of the family only. It was a day oddly blessed in every way.

Now the Christmas trappings are all away in their boxes waiting another year. With them go the already precious memories of this season just past.

This is a simple account, and provides a gentle reminder to hold all our own scripted plans carefully and with open hands.

What better attitude for the unknowns in our year ahead?

So we go on..open handed, carefully and with joy, confident that His plans are already in place and will be revealed one by one when the time is right.

On Christmas Day in the Morning

2011-12-25T09:12:00.000-08:00

The Baby we worship today is alive eternally,

both in our hearts and beyond time and space,

the King Who must reign.

~ J. B. Phillips

But where Thou dwellest, Lord,

No other thought should b,

Once duly welcomed and adored,

How should I part with Thee?

Bethlehem must lose Thee soon, but Thou wilt grace

The single heart to be Thy sure abiding place.

~ John Keble

The Word: Promised, Given, Made Flesh

2011-12-24T09:05:00.000-08:00

This Christmas season, the reality of the Incarnation has meant more to me than ever before. Perhaps it is simply age, but I think rather it is the needing to know that Immanuel truly is with me in my daily round. When the world goes on its merry way, whirling and humming in its ever moving swirling pattern, it is easy to feel alone particularly when the path of the moment has potholes and boulder strewn between bogs and marshes.

Yet, there are always faithful reminders to encourage, to lift the eyes and the spirit.

"God's with-us-ness means that He has taken our nature upon Him to accompany us as friend and shepherd during the pilgrimage...." so Paul Zahl has written. Once again, footprints.

There is this too, lines from Dora Greenwell's wonderful hymn:

And art Thou come with us to dwell,

Our Prince, our Guide, our Love, our Lord?

And is Thy name Emmanuel,

God present with His world restored?

...The world is glad for Thee! ...And all is well,

And fixed and sure, because Thou art,

Whose name is called Emmanuel!

May our Lord Emmanuel, fill your minds and hearts, Dear Reader, with the assurance of His presence season.

2011-12-23T08:28:00.000-08:00

Help us to rise to a fit gratitude

for the over-running blessings

which Thou givest ever,

even to the darkest lot and life,-

the temporal felicities,

the Divine comforts,

the Eternal hopes.

That all things are of Thy mercy,

by Thy mercy,

and in Thy mercy, we thank Thee.

Make us to sing Thy song in the light,

and in the night to touch Thy hand

and be at peace.

~Henry Wilder Foote - 1838-1889

Met Thomas a' Kempis On This Day's Journey

2011-12-15T08:28:00.000-08:00

O Lord my God, be not Thou far from me;

my God, have regard to help me,

for there have risen up against me sundry thoughts

and great fears, afflicting my soul.

How shall I pass through unhurt?

how shall I break them to pieces?

This is my hope, my only one consolation,

to flee unto Thee,

to call upon Thee from my inmost heart,

and to wait patiently for Thy consolation.

Amen

How did he know I needed this?
O yes, He knew!
Praise Him.

That Holy Thing

2011-12-11T08:25:00.000-08:00

They all were looking for a king
To slay their foes, and lift them high;
Thou cam'st a little baby thing
That made a woman cry.

O Son of man, to right my lot
Naught but thy presence can avail;
Yet on the road the wheels are not,
Nor on the sea thy sail!

My fancied ways why shouldst thou heed?
Thou cam'st down thine own secret stair;
Com'st down to answer all my need,
Yea, every bygone prayer!

~George MacDonald

Perfect Endings, New Beginnings

2011-12-08T08:54:00.000-08:00

Forty years ago, while a contented wife and mother living the farm life, the Provider came home and announced he was leaving teaching. That was one day. The next on his returning home he announced he had been offered a youth pastor position in a city to the North.

This became a dramatic turning point in what became my pilgrimage. By nature, I am a nester. Roots are put down deeply and quickly. I love the land. All that is wrapped up in the country life is my ideal. At this time in our lives we were happily Mennonite, my parents lived on the other side of our barn, my sister down the road. The children's school was the best of all possible situations. All this to be traded for an uncertain life and ministry with rich city teenager? We went (in my heart- as a Mennonite missionary to the Baptists:) . Long story short: my heel marks can still be seen the distance up Oregon's old Highway 99.

Oh yes. It should also be mentioned that the private life is another aspect of my ideal. The public arena is for the brave, the outgoing sanguine sort of folk, not for those who hear the whispered appeal of the cloister life.

And so it came to pass that life as we knew it was turned on its head. Fortunately, a fixed pattern of devotional life had been established in my early mothering years. This became the most important ballast in my ever-rocking boat through all future storms and seas.

As we went to this new ministry, a passage of scripture was claimed never imagining that my Lord would use that selection, time and again through the years to humble, strip, and shape me bringing me to the place that with David and through tears I could to say "Surely I have calmed and quieted my soul like a weaned child with his mother...." I did not yet understand John Donne's prayer to "batter my heart three-personed God." But the learning began.

Now, at the other end of those 40 years, and 8 ministries later, we come to the end of that road. This ending coming about as abruptly as the first. At months' end comes the final leaving a beloved Body of believers by resignation.

We leave this present place after 10 years. This is the longest ever spent in one location in 55 years of marriage. It has been a good and peaceful ministry and blessed in so many ways.

So there is the perfect ending. Now a new beginning.

This new trail will be oh so different, difficult as well, I have no doubt. The Man, the centerpiece of my life and life experiences has terminal cancer. We have agreed that there will be no extreme measures sought. It seems inconsistent to pour caustic chemicals into an already compromised body, and that body, incidentally being the temple of Almighty God's indwelling Spirit. Then too, what does that say to the watching world - a reluctance to see our Savior face to face?

Perhaps these are simplistic thoughts. But we also have before us the perfect example of how the righteous are to face death through the valiant example set by our precious son-in-law three years ago.

Now we shall see what we are truly made of..it is definitely 'show time'. All that we have taught, all that we think we have learned, all we have said we know is now laid bare and on the line. We truly set off into the Unknown. But we are not alone. Our children and grands journey with us as well as friend gathered through the years. Yet that's not all.

We do have our nails pounded in a Sure Place - the certainty of a Sovereign God, the experiential knowledge of His Faithfulness, the promise of His Presence. We have trusted Him in the past, we can trust Him with our future - He already being There.

Ebenezer...Emmanuel...we are Mercy covered and Grace sustained by His following Love.

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord,

I will exult in the victorious God of my salvation.

The Lord is my strength and my personal bravery,

He makes my feet like hinds feel

and will make me to walk

[not stand still in terror but to walk]

and make progress upon my high places,

of trouble, suffering or responsibility.

So sang the prophet Habakkuk, and the Septuagint adds "that I may conquer by His song."

And so onward, upward, rejoicing, singing, clinging!

Second Sunday of Advent

2011-12-04T07:06:00.000-08:00

"...Ere by the spheres time was created, thou

Wast in his mind, who is thy Son, and Brother;

Whom thou conceiv'st, conceived; yea thou art now

Thy Maker's maker, and thy Father's mother;

Thou hast light in dark; and shut'st in little room,

Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb."

~ John Donne 1572-1631

..And Speaking of Treasures...

2011-12-02T08:05:00.001-08:00

Some days bring surprises, serendipitous gifts filled with wonder and delight. Such is the day recently enjoyed in the company of one of my Precious Treasures. My treasures accumulated through the years come in the form of flesh and blood beings. (These are the treasures, incidentally, that last for Eternity. Praise Him!)

This particularly darling girl could truly be added to my amazing grand daughter collection. She reads voraciously, loves Jane A. Elizabeth Gaskell, and God's Word. She loves cooking, baking and eating. She loves beauty in all forms. She loves Nature and travels with a camera. She is sweet, funny, honest and all round adorable. (She also fly fishes with her dad. Awesome!)

This one is also a pilgrim whose path has had challenges that have tested her faith and refined her gold. She is a child of mine, not by blood, but through The Blood.

So, there was a phone call, a setting of time for meeting. This wasn't to be just tea and chat, we have done that numerous times. This was hopefully to give help with a college research paper yet to be written. Neither of us could have known the outcome.

The questions she brought struck an important personal, timely note. The conversation that followed not only gave her material for her writing, hopefully, but gave me opportunity to frame with words, to say out loud, the ways in which I've been lead on my own pilgrim way to this new season, how the Hidden Hand has been revealed in my life through the years, how Life's trials and trails have molded and shaped.

How amazing that just such an exercise was the needful reminder for my own challenging Now.

I can't be certain of possible blessings given to my Treasure, I am only certain of the ones received from her. And I thank our mutual Father for His good gifts.

[I love you my darling girl.]

Hat Pins and Button Hooks

2011-12-01T08:30:00.001-08:00

New Zealand essayist/Minister Frank W. Borham (1871-1959) tells the story of a small girl running in from school telling her momma that she has learned punctuation. She goes on to explain that "if you say that a thing is so you just put a hat-pin after it; but if you are only asking whether it is so or not, you put a button hook."

Boreham concludes that sooner or later all life matters are reduced down to these two categories: either "certainties or suspicions".

As I was gathering thoughts on the Christmas account of Mary this morning, I saw this

'reduction' there. Mary had her questions in the beginning - big questions - concerning the things which were angel announced. Yet, as understanding came to her, the certainties grew larger and were seen more clearly as the questions were answered and faded away.

Mary's certainties included a settled trust in Her God and with that who she was in His sight and plan.

All this becomes a comfort to me that the really big things are represented by hat pins. My certainties in my Faith-walk outweigh my fears or speculations, they are 'stuck in'. The things that can either wait or be put aside by button hooks.

My faith is the assurance of things unseen. I can embrace the "Glorious Impossibles" in the birth account of the Christ child. I can and do cling to the merits of my Savior's cross, and the strength and mystery of His risen power. There is the certainty of the goodness and mercy that follows me all my days. Oh, and so very much more.

In these simple truths of pins and hooks, is security from the unsettling issues of my life. Here, like a little sparrow in the sight of my watchful God, I can build my nest and find rest.

Thanksgiving Retrospective

2011-11-29T08:13:00.001-08:00

Family gatherings..just the words conjure up thoughts, memories, all sorts. Our family Thanksgivings have been the one holiday we gather together. In times past, each family unit has someone involved in ministry making a Christmas feast difficult, nay impossible. So Thanksgiving was chosen for the yearly coming together.

Generally too, it has been at least a two day affair. Each member must come with a name and occupation chosen for the time. [think: clever, silly, downright daft but never serious]

Each family unit also must come prepared to perform some talent [ very seldom serious].

When it comes to cooks in our clan, there is nary a clinker. Always the food is too good and too plentiful. Conversation flows constantly, laughter erupts frequently. We enjoy each other, the youngest to the eldest, back and forth and all in between.

But with all the changes that have or may take place there is one constant.

Following the giving of thanks, as we stand circling the table and still holding hands, someone leads out in the singing of Thomas Ken's wonderful words of the doxology. This is sung slowly, meaningfully and in full harmony.

Through the years it has become more precious. It has become the family anthem sung together in times of sorrow as well as in times of joy.

It is lovely thing, the way simple things 'just happen' and so become meaningful traditions to carry on through all generations.

Praise Him!

Gratefulness

2011-11-23T07:07:00.001-08:00

Thou that hast given so much to me,

Give one thing more, a grateful heart...

Not thankful, when it pleaseth me:

As if Thy blessings had spare days:

But such a heart, whose pulse may be

Thy praise.

~George Herbert

___

Photo: Jaclyn Louise Peterson

Changing Course

2011-11-21T08:38:00.000-08:00

It was 40 years ago, minus one, that Himself came home and announced that he resigned his teaching post. The very next day he came home announcing that he had been offered a position as a youth pastor.

Yesterday morning Himself again came home and told me that this was the day the men of his board felt that his resignation from the pastorate should be given to the congregation.

So you see, Dear Reader, there has been yet another dramatic change in our lives. It is not one of falling into a dark abyss - that was the first time. This is more a re-routing of the journey.

Much is and will be changed. My posts will reflect this. Looking back does not reveal a life of chance but rather Providence - the Sovereign God's Hidden Hand - moving us through each day of that part of the journey. Bear with me as in this journey ahead I share frayed rags and pieces of thought that make or will make whole cloth.

For this new phase, I'm sustained by the fact of the nearly-here Advent season and the reminder of Immanuel - God with us. Isn't that grand? The God that has led in the past is still with us guiding the future days. Ebenezer!

For today I am leaning hard while embracing all the pain and puzzlement of the Eternal Now and the uncertainty of future days.

Today's Psalter reading begins "Give thanks to the Lord, call upon His name...sing to Him...talk of all His marvelous deeds...."

That's a good thing...always is, was and shall be.

Selah

This Day

2011-11-20T07:52:00.000-08:00

Joy is a victory signal.

It is the quiet confidence that what God has begun

He will accomplish

because

He is in charge of the details of our lives.

~Joseph C. Aldrich

Shaky Hands and Eternal Truths

2011-11-19T08:52:00.000-08:00

Written in spidery script in the flyleaf of my mother's New Testament, a last companion of her last days, is written two lines of a hymn. The lines ring Truth. This Day I simply needed to find the entire hymn. Oddly enough it is not included in any hymnals on my shelf. Blessings on Google who came to my rescue.

Thou art my Rock, O blessed Redeemer;

Thou art my Refuge where I may hide;

Thou art my Rock to shelter and bless me;

Ever in Thee I safely abide.

Thou art my Rock, O blessed Redeemer;

Thou art my Rock when trial is near;

Thou art my Rock when sorrow is smiting.

Thou art my Rock; why then should I fear?

Thou art my Rock, temptations defying;

Thou art my Friend unchanging and sure'

Wholly on Thee my soul is relying.

Ever to keep me faithful and pure.

Thou art my Rock. when kingdom and nation,

Ruler and crown, have crumbled to dust,

Thou shalt remain my Rock of salvation-

Rock Everlasting, Thee will I trust.

Thou art my Rock, O blessed Redeemer;

Thou art my Friend and Thou art my Guide;

Thou art my Hope, and Thou art my Savior,

Thou art my Trust; In Thee will I hide.

Deep and heart felt gratitude is mine to a faithful Christian mother as well as to a faithful fellow pilgrim. These two left records of their Trust in The Rock that is the Rock of my life as well to encourage me,for such a time as this.

The hymn was written by Carrie Elizabeth Ellis Breck, 1855-1934.

The Reason For Thanksgiving

2011-11-18T08:39:00.000-08:00

From these treasures, many more have been added. These, a joy and delight from early days has only increased. We, the Vicar and I, speak often of how very blessed we are. The original four have increased the tribe 22 times.

We could not have imagined the rich joys to come,

to bless us all our days,

to warm our hearts,

to strengthen our spirits,

to lighten burdens,

to grace and ease the journey.

With all the gifts and abilities included, has come the gift of laughter.

Laughter in hard times must be among the greatest gifts of all.

Oh so very much to be thankful for at this season.

"So what is our hope or happiness

or our victor's wreath of exultant triumph

when we stand in the presence of our Lord Jesus at His coming?

Are not you?

For you are indeed our glory and our joy!

~ I Thes. 2.19, 20, Amp.

Ah, Peace

2011-11-17T09:27:00.000-08:00

It has been the pattern of my life, the ways of the Father with His child. Always, before a change in course, a mountain to climb or perilous events coming, the Lord has prepared this heart ahead of time. This has taken different forms to be sure. Often it has been through His Word, or the writings of others. Sometimes by something said by another in conversation. My thinking is that, at least in part, it is because He knows how I dislike surprises!

Regardless of His reasons, I'm so very thankful that in His mercy He has done it.

Recently I came across the thought in an old record concerning our Lord's bequeathment to his disciples and so to us as well. Christ's last will and testament, His bequeathment to His beloveds was His peace! The peace that kept Jesus as He faced Gethsemane, the cross and His earthly end, is the peace that will keep us. It's a promise! It is a peace that gives rest amid the constant changes of life and certainly through all the uncertainties of our earthly pilgrimage.

"Peace I am leaving behind for you.

Peace which is mine I am giving to you.

Not such as the world gives, do I give you.

Let not your heart continue to be agitated

neither let it be fearful."

John 14.27,28 , Wuest trans.

That scripture immediately sends the mind back to Isaiah's statement in chapter 26. "Thou will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee. So trust in Him forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting Rock, the Rock of Ages."

Imagine! In an imperfect world, in my imperfect nature, I am granted perfect peace.

And this peace is absolute, through absolute trust in my immovable, everlasting Rock.

That, Dear Reader, is the good news for This Day, for any day as a matter of fact.

____

Photo of our precious lad by Julia Valovich

Stirring it up

2011-11-13T08:15:00.000-08:00

Stir up we beseech Thee, O Lord,

the wills of Thy faithful people,

that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works,

may of Thee, be plenteously rewarded;

through Jesus Christ our Lord.

So reads Bishop Cranmer's Book of Common Prayer collect read for this Sunday.

All our actions have a point of origin and when it comes to our will, it is clear that what we will, we do if at all possible.

The good bishop, I believe, is reminding us to focus on the use of our will in faithful and fruitful efforts. O how we often stumble at these points. In the Church, stirring up strife seems to be a major 'spiritual gift' rather than stirring up to good ends.

The apostle Paul reminds young Timothy to "stir up - rekindle the embers, fan the flame and keep burning - the gracious gift of God...." [ II Tim. 1.6, Amp. trans.]

That's the thought for This Day on the spiritual front.

On the purely temporal front, in High Church tradition, this is "Stir Up Sunday".

Certainly a reference both to God's power and to man's will.

It is also a reminder that it's time for members of the household to set about taking turns stirring the Christmas pudding in preparation for that feast coming soon.

May we all go forth stirring This Day.

2011-11-11T07:33:00.000-08:00

When morning gilds the sky,

My heart awakening cries,

may Jesus Christ be praised.

This was just such a morning with just such a gilded sky.

Praise Him!

____

Photo by Jaclyn Peterson whose joy infects our hearts, our souls, our lives.

Kid-bits

2011-11-08T08:45:00.000-08:00

'Kid-bits' is my own coinage for those fragments of joy, either acts or words, that come from the children. Most often these days, these are left by the Great-Grands. These are the sweet things, often so tiny or brief in themselves yet they leave an awe trail. These cause ponderings,
and sometimes beyond the delight great spiritual truths are seen.

Our Little Lad is most often very much a man of action. From his greeting as he enters the door, there is a path of activity that resumes from his last visit. But he is also given to quiet in both his play and his person.

A favorite point of action, and one for which he is always reprimanded, is that of scaling the sofas and walking their ridge. This is easy and made fun by the fact that they do not sit against walls.

This last week he was lying, his small person spread the length of the love seat. He was still, contemplative, looking out the window. Momma spoke, reminding him that was forbidden territory. Laddie turned and quietly said: "I'm waiting for *Truck". Equally quietly, momma left the room and made a phone call to the one awaited.

The thing is, the Lad had no way of knowing if Truck would come or not. He only knew that often he does come. Laddie was waiting in quiet anticipation. [In response to the phone call, Truck did shortly arrive.]

Pondering this scene reminded me of all those scriptural admonishments to wait..to wait on the Lord...to wait for His salvation...to wait for the Holy Spirit...to wait for His appearing. Most often the waiting meant is that of quiet, hopeful anticipation.

As adults we must fill all our moments with busy and alas, busy drives away quiet and anticipation. Busy sidetracks, busy clutters.

Lord, may we re-learn quiet. May we be willing to settle down, looking out the window as it were, in anticipation of your presence in our lives that we may not miss the blessing of the arrival!
_______
*Truck was the title given to the Patriarch of the clan. This is the second generation to call him so.

The lovely photo was taken from the BBC some time ago. How I wish I remembered the name of the photographer in order to give proper credit. But I do thank him or her anyway.

Our Renaissance Man

2011-10-28T08:00:00.000-07:00

We have been so blessed. Four amazing children have been added to us by adoption through marriage. One of these is celebrated and honored today.

He is a brilliant man of parts:

an Eschoffier in the kitchen,

an Edison in all things electrical,

a cinematic Fellini,

a technological genius.

He is the High Priest of his home, loyal in his friendships, a man of integrity, a pragmatist in the best sense. He is generous in his hospitality, in his humor, a gentleman and gentle man. And all his accomplishments (those listed and many more) he wears with an easy grace, in most honorable fashion.

There is so much more that could be written regarding the ways in which he brings joy not only to our lives but to those of others.

Here is a man shaped on the anvil by Life's hard blows. Here is an overcomer in the truest sense of the word. Yet his heart was never hardened, only his resolve to carry on.

Blessings on you this day, our dear son-in-law.

May you continue to enrich and enhance that corner of the world in which you dwell, work and serve.

You are delighted in and very much loved.

Classic Juliana For An Autumnal Sort of Day

2011-09-16T09:30:00.000-07:00

Juliana (or Julian if you prefer, which I do not:) Was born c.1373. It is said that she lived to be 100 years. Her writings, sometimes difficult for our twenty-first century sensibilities, are nonetheless rich with spiritual wisdom for any age and time. Today's offering is one of those sweetly filled with charmingly antiquated words and phrases, yet chuck full of Eternal Truth. Just right for seasonal gathering and storing up for winter days.

"He showed a little thing, the quantity of a hazel-nut, lying in the palm of my hand, as meseemed, and it was as round as a ball. I looked thereon with the eyes of my understanding, and thought, 'What may this be?' and it was answered generally thus, 'It is all that is made.'

I marvelled how it might last ; for methought it might suddenly have fallen to naught for littleness. And I was answered in my understanding,

'It lasteth, and ever shall;

For God loveth it.'

And so hath all things being by Love of God."

In this little thing I saw three properties.

The first is, that God made it.

The second, that God loveth it.

The third, that God keepeth it.

For this is the cause which we be not all at ease of heart and soul; for we seek here rest in this thing which is so little, where no rest is in; and we know not our God that is all Mighty, all Wise, and all Good, for He is very rest.

God will to be known, and it pleaseth Him that we rest in Him

For all that is beneath Him, sufficeth not us."

Selah!

Where Have I Been, You May Well Ask?

2011-09-14T09:15:00.000-07:00

This wallaby is the perfect metaphor for these past weeks. Stranded, confined, limited, solitary yet with land and freedom in view, just a bit out of reach!

As this part of the journey was traveled, as dreaded events were looming dark and large, there was once again, "room for fear to move".

Fear is such a crippling emotion. It has such octopusian tentacles that snatch and grab and squeeze the life out of the soul and spirit.

Fear, for one who knows her Guide, also spreads guilt. Isn't fear an indicator of distrust? Of unbelief? Or perhaps it is just a glaring symptom of blithering, unstable humanity.

Defined, fear is "a painful feeling of impending danger, of evil, of trouble". That pretty much sums it up what I was feeling.

The Parson, you see, was eagerly going forward to yet another major surgery. Not needful in the sense of overall health, rather for personal comfort. All that was in me cried 'STOP'. But we went forward through endless appointments and all that goes with it. Fear mounted and tongue biting became the rule of the day.

Then, Himself said one morning "I've not said anything, but I've real misgivings about all this". God be praised! And all the pent up thoughts came pouring past that bitten tongue.

Marvelous, this. The Hidden Hand working quietly in spite of my fear storm. The answer to all those panic prayers given in gentle surprise. And a dear daughter reminding me "Hmm. The I Peter 3 principle."

For This Day, this stranded wallaby is safely, happily - no joyously - on firm land once again. I'm not so naive to think that there will not be unsettling events and times of stranding ahead. But once again there is the reminder of a merciful Sovereign God at work in our lives.

Lo, we can tread rejoicing

The narrow pilgrim road;

We know the voice that calls us,

We know our faithful God.

~Gerhardt Ter Steegen

A Special Day Today

2011-08-22T09:09:00.000-07:00

When the children were young, four blank 3x5 cards were selected. On each were written specific hopes, dreams and imagined needs concerning the character and personality of their future mates.

One of the lovely aspects of old age is to look back down the years and see how our faithful and Sovereign God has answered prayers, and those specifically. There have been direct answers to direct requests. There have been those requests that Grace has denied.

Then there are those surprises, where in one case, my request was switched from this daughter to another. (But yet, the story is not yet over, is it?:) Of course the most amazing thing which should never surprise but always does, the way in which prayers have been answered above and beyond what we could have imagined by our limited and faulty minds and vision.

Today there is an anniversary. It is not yet quite one of those that is stated as a significantly marked and celebrated one. Yet again, in this day and age or any age for that matter, solid, stable, loving marriages are of great significance and each year given is a year to celebrate in every way.

I am so grateful for the young woman that the Lord by His own surprise methods, brought into the life of the son of my heart. Did she measure up to my carded requirements so long ago? Oh my. Beyond the beyond. Forgive, Dear Reader, a silliness but like Mary Poppins, she is "practically perfect in every way."

These two of my Beloveds have not had an easy journey. They have weathered unbelievably harsh storms. Their challenges and testings have been such as to bring tears to the eyes from the heart whenever spoken out loud. They have lived through 'crucible' years. But as Job knew, from the Refiners Fire comes pure gold, and a love of the finest, truest, shinning sort.

So This Day I find my heart rejoicing with thanksgiving, first to my God who hears a mother's prayers in the form of an amazing daughter-in-law, and to Them for their example of lasting love before the watching world.

Happy Anniversary, Jeff and Suz-our-zanne.
With much love and continued prayer for your years yet ahead.
May they be blessed beyond all imagining.

Generation Connection

2011-08-15T09:16:00.000-07:00

...sometimes joy, sometimes seriousness. Life calls for both, doesn't it?

Perhaps it has always been so, the older members of the clan finding threads of family color repeating in succeeding generation. It is a pleasant diversion this viewing of connecting threads. At times, it is in the facial similarities. There is always that game to play it seems. But the repeat patterning of temperaments, of developing character in the young that echos those passed into family history, that is the real game.

Today's family 'snapshot' is that of one of this newest generation juxtaposed against an afghan crocheted by the little ones great-great-great-grandmother. (Of side interest perhaps is the fact that their given names are of similar origin).

The afghan, a fragment of my childhood was created by my maternal grandmother. This afghan has always delighted me. It is not at all of the shades of color I'd have chosen. But its boldness reflects the character of Grandma. No, she was not bold in the dominant, outgoing or outspoken sense. Rather, she was bold in her courage, her unending ability to go through great difficulties that presented themselves in her long life.

From a human perspective, much that she faced throughout her life could be declared 'unfair'. Yet Grandma faced each dark thread squarely, chose the course of her action and went on with a quiet joy. She was a woman of no nonsense strength balanced by immeasurable grace. She came to faith in Christ as an adult and never looked back. All that she was, all that she chose, all that she did was governed by that fact.

Truly her life was a handsome tapestry of balanced beauty. It took all shades, all colors to produce the final record. Grandma was an overcomer of the highest order. She was also my best friend.

This little one pictured before this ancestoral fragment has already shown herself to be one of this overcoming tradition. This child "with the humming bird heart" has already gone through open chest surgery with a stoicism that was astounding. She is a serious child but also a child of joy both in the exhibiting and in the giving.

How deeply moved I always am by this present day one and her connection with the long gone but remembered dear one.

What delight Grandma would have taken in her, as do I.

So for Today I am feeling so blessed to be marking the place at the center of their lives, holding on, if you will, to the thread of the larger tapestry that connects them.

That's what family is all about after all, isn't it, a tapestry of connected threads of assorted color and hue?

Birthday Thoughts

2011-08-11T10:51:00.001-07:00

With heartfelt thanks to Isaac Watts:

God of my childhood and my youth,

The guide of all my days,

I have declar'd Thy heav'nly truth,

And told Thy wondrous ways.

Let me Thy power and truth proclaim

to the surviving age;

And leave a savour of Thy name

When I shall quite the stage.

The Lord supports our tott-ring days,

And guides our giddy youth;

Holy and just are all His ways,

And all His words are truth."

Hatfield and Wilberforce

2011-08-11T08:52:00.001-07:00

William Wilberforce, 1759-1833

Mark O. Hatfield 1922-2011

Two men of different centuries, of different countries but one in calling and evangelical faith in the Living God.

'Statesman', 'Man of Honor', 'Man of conviction', are not common phrases these days in speaking of men in the political arena. Yet these two men, aside from their professions had another thing in common, that of standing against the popular opinion on issues that mattered.

Both sought the common good of common man from a spiritual perspective.

Both suffered the pain and wounding of 'the slings and arrows' of those who stood opposed.

While I am in no way a political creature, I am drawn to accounts of those lives lived with integrity and Christian authenticity.

You, Dear Reader, can seek for yourself concerning the record of these two lives.

I only want to place two quotations from Senator Hatfield before you, quotations that for me sum up the life of this one now gone from our scene.

"If Christians in political life cannot be witnesses in [the] most basic manifestations of the living Word on a day-to-day basis, then the whole concept of public service is a mockery...it is a deep desire of my heart to be a reflection in the flesh of the living Christ...."

Hatfield compared his Pro-Life stand to Wilberforce's stand on slavery.

"I am persuaded that the parallel issue in the twentieth century to slavery in the nineteenth is this very cluster of issues that flows from our present day manifestation of the 'grand malady':selfishness...How is it that we dare commit the sin of the ultimate idolatry of seeking to rob the Creator of His creation...Only focus on self to the exclusion of all others could possibly bring us to this disobedience."

History judges openly the lives of those lived in the open. History is not the final, nor always the correct judge in such matters. But all must stand and give an account of the life lived before The Great Judge of Heaven.

There is no doubt in my mind that in the case of both these men He will say "well done, good and faithful servant."

[quotations by Sen. Hatfield from his forward to Real Christianity by William Wilberforce, pub. Multnomah Press, 1982]

Borrowing Nehemiah's Blessings

2011-08-08T10:19:00.000-07:00

During the long days and longer nights of the Parson's recent recovery, there was no time or energy to ponder great truths. There was not even time to bathe in the Word. All was sips from the Stream, quick reads of the Psalter. But mostly it was fragments of Truth that came to mind. These became precious. They encouraged, brief as they were. They continued to break through my thoughts coming at very needful moments.

The two phrases one from Deuteronomy and one from Nehemiah's journal were 'as thy day, so shall thy strength be" and "the joy of the Lord is thy strength."

The word 'strength' has continued to haunt me. It brought me through that wilderness and yet I wanted more. So this morning I dug a bit deeper.

I remembered that the first was part of the blessing given to the tribe of Asher, [Deut. 33.25] and it is a most amazing promise. But Nehemiah has always been a hero so to his account I went. The cupbearer to the King turned engineer/architect was a man who knew about the stress of duty, of Life. And as he wrote his daily story before his God, he spoke often of strength and experienced God's hand in his life enough to become an authority on the subject to my mind anyway. He clearly knew his source, the God of all Strength and with that came the certainty of his faith enabling him to encourage others. [Neh. 1.10]

The Hebrew word here carries with it the idea of binding, the bonding together that makes all firmer and stronger still. "Then I told them the hand of my God which was good upon me..and they said: 'Let us rise up and build. So they strengthened their hands for the good work.' [2.18]

Nehemiah, as we too, found difficulties in the way that can deplete strength. It is 'rubbish' as the AV calls it. What constitutes rubbish? Anything that interferes with getting the task done, and I was thinking boulders, . Looking it up in the Hebrew it states it is only "dust, ashes and etc." Seems easy enough to sweep aside, to get through. And yet, isn't is just that, the small things that break our focus and cause us to break stride? To lose heart?

Then Nehemiah encountered the ubiquitous 'they', the naysayers that come along and plot and undermine. At such times I try to remember the line from Amy Charmichael "they say? let them say!"

Good counsel but sometimes hard to employ. Then the workers prayed "Now therefore, O God, strengthen our hands." Again a calling out to God to bind with them and so strengthen them enabling them to finish the job at hand.

It is when the task was completed that the promise "the joy of the Lord is your strength" was given. What came for Nehemiah's wall builders was weeping at the reading of the Law. So came the admonition: "Go your way...for this day is holy to our Lord; and be not grieved and depressed, for the joy of the Lord is your strength and stronghold." [8.10 amp.] So often at the end of a task there is the conviction, false or true, that all was not done as well as it might have been. There is often a sudden attack of the What-ifs and If-onlys. When what should take place is merely going on the way in joy.

The last words of this very personal journal written before a very personal Almighty God is as follows, again from the Amplified translation: "O my God, earnestly remember me for good and imprint me on your Heart!"

When all is said and done,when I come out of any wilderness, or to the end of any difficult task I can plead Mercy for the efforts done, feeling confident that I truly am imprinted on my Father's heart who weighs my efforts and lifting them out of the dust and ashes.

Praise Him.

The Picture and the Reality

2011-08-07T08:10:00.000-07:00

Edinburgh Castle may not be everyones dream picture of a castle, but it is mine. I have been there. I have walked in through the guarded gate, I've walked freely through its open spaces, into the ancient sequestered chapel, looked over its secure walls to the city of the world below, seen the stores of provisions and the weaponry that provides protection.

That was the picture that filled my mind last evening when I read the Psalter in its old translation.

Psalm 31: "In Thee, O Lord, have I put my trust; let me never be put to confusion; deliver me in Thy righteousness.

...and be Thou my strong rock, the house of defence, that Thou mayest save me.

For Thou art my strong rock, my castle; be Thou also my guide, lead me for Thy Name's sake..for Thou art my strength."

What a blessed reminder that my Castle, like that of Edinburgh, rises out the of the strong rock on which it is founded. This, a picture of the protected fortress to which I can run in times of distress, where I can in safety look down on all that is threatening, the quiet 'chapel', in which I can pour out my heart and offer my praise- all this is mine and I have found "In Thee O, Lord".

In God alone is my store of provision, my battlement of protection, my righteousness and salvation. All this as I trust in His name.

Selah

The Amazing World of Blogopia

2011-08-05T09:41:00.000-07:00

When I began this adventure in writing it was because of a grand-daughter's pleadings. It never ocurred to me that I would be blessed by the occasional reader stopping by even from another part of the world. Mine has truly become a small world indeed.

My blogs title and the accompanying poem by Sir W. Raleigh were selected because of the imagery of pilgrimage to be sure. But it was also a favorite of my mom's as well as mine. My initial introduction to it was through the writings of Frank W. Boreham who has been a companion through many years of my journey.

What I failed to do when I began blogging - and here comes the good part - was to give details about the individual aspects of the pilgrim as Sir R. mentioned.

Recently, a charming young woman - English but blessed to live in France - stopped by my site and then on her own blog beautifully wrote what I had failed to. So Dear Reader, I encourage you to visit her. You won't be disappointed. Her blog is charming. She is, as you will discover, a very gifted and delightful lady. http://trocbroc.blogspot.com She will enable you to fully appreciate what we pilgrims carry on our journey. [you will need to scroll down to her July 30 post entitled "Pilgrimage II".

(She even reads Brother Cadfael, another personal favorite:)

Happy Reading.

For This Lord's Day, And Every Day

2011-07-31T07:49:00.000-07:00

My God, my King, Thy various praise

Shall fill the remnant of my days;

Thy grace employ my humble tongue

Till death and glory raise the song.

...

But who can speak Thy wondrous deeds?

Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds.

Vast and unsearchable Thy ways,

Vast and immortal be Thy praise!

~Isaac Watts on Psalm 145

Red Currants, Old Linens and Babies

2011-07-22T09:06:00.000-07:00

It's facinating how at times tasks, events and memories spin together forming connecting threads, past to present.

The red currants are full and ripe, picking is in process. With that always comes memories of momma.

I grew up in my own Eden, where the fruit of all trees and plants were allowed. Except one. There was one small red currant shrub. It was down the path to the wooden platform where the merry-go-round clothes line stood. That shrub was momma's prize. It's fruit was forbidden to all passers-by especially children. It was treasured and guarded with a fierceness of that which guards the Crown Jewels. In later years, on another farm, was another red currant. It too was guarded with the same sure intensity but this time from the maurading grand children.

So now, I'm picking my own red currants and wishing momma the crop hanging so bountifully that guarding is not required. In fact, gleanings will be left for the birds but also for the great-grand lad who loves to pick and eat the gleaming fruit.

Now about linens. In the present chosen task of simplifying, down-sizing our life, one has been gathering, sorting, selecting the best and favorites of my long-held stash. Old laces and linens "are my one weakness." On some of these fabric treasures stains of differnant sorts could be seen. So what's to do? Thoughts, at once go back to my Grandma. I see her standing over the hot, boiling kettle on the green wood stove. She is stirring and perspiring in order to ultimately have gleaming white linens of which a woman can be proud. And that was only step one.

From that process came the washing carefully, no bleaching please, only gentle castile soap allowed. After rinsing and wringing, the linens were carefully spread on the grass. Sun and chlorophyl combining to work the final magic.

Oxyclean and soft soap allowed me to skip Grandma's process - all except the spreading on the grass for the day. And yes, Dear Reader, all spots were gone, all glistened white enough to make Grandma proud.

Then there is the item regarding babies. This a particularly joyful note.

This week, our clan has been blessed with the safe arrival of yet another wee lass. Her coming makes four great-grands for us. All tied up in the splendid emotions of this is the fact that she, with nary a thought on her part, awarded grandmother status to my youngest, my baby. That alone is cause to ponder and in fact has indeed been pondered much these last few days.

With her coming, my thoughts went to my own dear daddy. How delighted he would be to see my great-grands, my grands too. How he treasured my own little ones. The remembered memory is him with my four Littles gathered on his lap, surrounded by his big arms. He was a generous sized grandpa and my little ones were all lanky and long-legged in the early years of his living next door. He could hold all four at once. On those occasions, after all were settled there were stories told. Daddy was not only the lover of these children, but the consumate story teller.

These vingnettes have all been part of this week's life and thought. Varied and seemingly disconnected they concern not only connecting memories but the three pillars that structured my childhood.

What's that? Three pillars are not enough to establish structure. No, not only three. There was a Fourth, unseen, acknowleded, followed. And so He remains, the essential Pillar of our growing family to this day. He brings all together, He connects the threads of our varied lives and weaves the fabric of our Life's tapestry.

"Lord, You have been our dwelling place

and our refuge in all generations.

...even from everlasting to everlasting

You are God."

Wilderness Thoughts

2011-07-19T08:58:00.000-07:00

A wilderness defined is a solitary region, untilled rough country adapted only as pasture. So this is where we have been in all its imagery.

We are now, thanks be to our faithful God, on the far side of the wilderness. Yes, there has been a coming out. There are no naive thoughts about this being our last wilderness visit. Wilderness experiences are a part of pilgrimage. But with each visit new insights are gained, new strength given, new growth realized.

What was evidenced this time was the awareness of the constant presences of my Lord, the continual feeling of being wrapped securely in a downy soft prayer coverlet and the peace that it brought.

The early days were, for want of better words, frightening, horrific, awful. The Man Himself always experiences a form dementia after anesthesia. This time was beyond past experiences. There were exceedingly long days and longer nights where I stormed into the Father's Throne Room in very unseemly fashion, continually. Then, when I came to the place of saying 'if this is my portion the rest of my days, I will accept and trust You.' Following that came many hours of uninterrupted sleep. In the morning following, clarity of mind and a settled peace was given to Himself that was astounding.

The days since have been a sweet challenge, trying to find the right foods to delight and fatten one who in the best of times is no foodie, to somehow strengthen a very weak body. We are gaining on it. There has been - slowly by slowly - a return of strength and ounce by ounce a weight gain.

While still not yet behind the pulpit, week day mornings have been put in at the office for a week now. And yesterday, a visit to the Holey Land with his golfing chum. The report was that both played badly, but 9 holes were finished.

So what specific wilderness thoughts?

During the early days especially, the hymn that came and continued to stay was "The Lord's My Shepherd, I'll Not Want", the Scottish Psalter version. Truly the 23rd Psalm is everyone's earliest favorite. For it to return, after all these years in such tender force was precious. The promises of protection, provision, of a "future and a hope" truly carried me and companioned me through the rough country of that solitary region. So for now:

"Who is this who comes up from the wilderness

leaning upon her beloved?...

This is my beloved and this is my friend...

His banner over me is love...."

Always is has been, always it shall be.

Praise Him.

2011-07-04T07:55:00.000-07:00

"The son said that his Father's desire was to deck His priests with health and joy and vigor. A wilderness experience did not seem to be His choice for them, and yet for many the wilderness was appointed...

Then the Comforter brought to his mind words about his Lord's sojourn in the wilderness...and he saw that no child of the Father was asked to walk where the footsteps of his Lord were not clear on the road.

He saw also that there always was a coming out of the wilderness....

No dwelling place was ever built in any wilderness for any child of God."

These words left as waymarkers by Amy Charmichael so long ago, have been quietly, repeatedly ringing in my ears these last weeks. A "coming out of the wilderness" - what bliss.

We are now on the sunny side of the recent wilderness for which we thank our God.
Of the many things learned in these weeks, most clear is that all wilderness experiences are to test our mettle [an allusion to the temper of the metal of a sword blade..quality of honor, fortitude, ardor..see courage:) Eng. dict.- smile face, mine]

Well, our mettle/metal has been tested, and while often we have been found wanting, the Faithfulness of our God?, never. Then too, the continual prayers of the saints on our behalf have graced our days in ways beyond telling. We are humbled. We are most grateful.

Just as we continue on the other side of our wilderness, others of our family are facing wilderness times ahead. Fortunately for all, the promises of God are not depleted by the usage.
He will continue to show Himself mighty on behalf of His children who call on Him, who trust in and rest on Him.

Praise His name.

2011-06-24T10:20:00.000-07:00

Real Christianity consists in

Purity,

Justice,

Contentment,

Self-command,

Philanthropy,

and a Faith which produces a sublime disregard

of human events.

~Thomas Dudley Fosbrooke,

Vicar of Walford, 1843

"... a sublime disregard of human events."

A noble thought for the day from the good Vicar!

Days Of Lead

2011-06-21T08:26:00.000-07:00

Lead: heavy to lift, lack-luster, darkish.

The feet are leaden. The days and nights as well. The spirit doesn't soar too high.

Blessings are noted. Truly.
These, the prayers of others,
the thoughtful and loving ministrations of daughters,of grand daughters.
The garden's beauty just now also fills the dark hollow places of the soul.

Looking, thinking about this lead, this word, made me realize it is just like another English word with a different pronunciation and very different meaning. And in that word there is hope.

Another penned the words long ago but they are also scribbed on my heart.

All the way my Savior lead(s) me,
What have I to ask besides?
Can I doubt His tender mercies
Who through life has been my guide?
Heavenly peace, divinest comfort,
Here by faith in Him to dwell,
For I know whate'er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well.

I am comforted.

2011-06-09T14:54:00.000-07:00

Rejoicing with those that do rejoice!!

Our beloved sailor is home from the sea.

All glory to God and praises loud resound!

2011-06-09T08:14:00.000-07:00

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,

The clouds you so much dread

are big with mercy and shall break

in blessings on your head.
~Wm. Cowper

Just the word 'oncologist' strikes terror. I hate to admit it, but there it is. How humbled once again by the Mercy that breaks in blessing. How could we have even imagined, that once again our great God would place in our pathway one of His choice servants 'for such a time as this'?

On noting the 'pastor' on the occupation line of the medical form, this dear man began to address all things from that blessed eternal perspective that only God's children understand.

Item by item he addressed our fears and answered our questions before we spoke of them.

Still, the fact is that tomorrow a kidney surrounded by a cancerous mass will be removed.

The fact remains that this is serious surgery with a long recovery time.
Admittedly, there is an element of dread here too.
We're speaking of a most impatient patient!

Yet, today while I won't say there is a lightness of bouncing spirit within, there is certainly a complete peace. Too, the spirit within is greatly humbled by New Mercies strewn on today's pathway.

My only puzzlement is the glaring fact of my own doubt. How could I have imagined such abundant grace given? And why did I not expect it from the Hand that gives only good things?

Look closely, Dear Reader - on my forehead is imprinted this day: "O ye of little faith".

With heart-felt thanks to all of you for your continued prayers as our journey continues.

2011-06-08T08:37:00.000-07:00

And now, Lord,
what is my hope?
truly my hope is even in Thee.

O send out Thy light and Thy truth,
that they may lead me and bring me to Thy holy hill and to Thy dwelling, and that I may go unto the alter of God, even unto the God of my joy and gladness;

Why art thou so heavy, O my soul? and why art thou so disquieted within me?
O put thy trust in God;
for I will yet give Him thanks,
which is the help of my countenance,
and my God.

What a kindness, that in centuries past, these words were designated for This Day in the Book of Common Prayer's Psalter reading.

We begin a new phase of our journey this day. There is that merciful bend in the road that prevents us from seeing what lies ahead and which at the same time drives us close to the side of our Shepherd.

The heart is indeed 'disquieted within me' and yet I know well the safety that is found in the company of the One who leads, Who knows all our days and all our ways. He charted them in Eternity Past. He is here. He will be with us to journey's end.
He is Sovereign,

He is trustworthy,

He is faithful.

Praise Him.

Selections taken from Psalm 39 and 43, Book of Common Prayer

Heros, Overcomers and Our Amazing Lad

2011-06-07T08:38:00.000-07:00

Always, from my earliest days, I've thrilled to stories of valiant warriors. Stories of those determined to overcome impossible odds and not simply to survive but to conquer and achieve, head up, shoulders back. These warrior heroes come in all shapes and forms. Some stand out in history, some are common folk and even family members. All began in the ordinary and commonplace that became extraordinary and challenging by life circumstances.

So here, this day is yet another such tale.

This is the tale of a Lad, one of our own. We were privileged and delighted to watch this Lad of ours graduated from high school recently. I know, this is not all that extraordinary and news worthy, it happens often enough. But our Lad not only graduated, but graduated with honors and # 8 in his class of fifty some students of a public school.

What makes this such a tear producing, heart swelling, extraordinary feat? Our Lad was diagnosed in his early years as having Asberger's Syndrome. And his story could easily have stopped there. He has struggled through his educational years , facing common defeat and uncommon frustrations daily. The list of these is long and overwhelming.

Now, he has dreams. Big dreams, perhaps too big, really. But what 18 year old has not had those dreams of glory and grandeur. For my part, I shall not step on those dreams.

Our Lad has a rock strewn pathway ahead and it will be up hill all the way, that is certain. Yet he has accomplished so very much thus far on his journey, it would be foolish to rule anything out in the future.

We are so very proud of him and his accomplishment. Perhaps it is wise to add that he is also of a gracious, thoughtful and compassionate nature. He has limitations to be sure, but I for one look forward to what he has yet to do in his life.

Blessed with amazingly wise and courageous parents who know their God's faithful ways, we can look forward to future days, heads up, shoulders back.

Old Friends & And The Journey

2011-05-29T08:22:00.000-07:00

When meeting with old friends, it is lovely they way they remind you of one another. This morning for me, the old friends are the apostle James, the prophet Micah and F. LaGard Smith.

In Sunday School we are studying the letter of James with his reminder of what true religion is.

Dr. Smith reminds in Meeting God in Quiet Places that Noah walked with God as did Enoch. But the prophet Micah shows us that "walking with God leads us to the very heart of our purpose for living."

He has showed you, O man,
what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly
and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.

Micah 6.8

Loving is earnestly desiring and delighting in.
Walking is doing so carefully and perseveringly, making progress on the journey

Humbly mean submissively. (from the Greek definitions)

And James gives the three aspects of true religion as the controlled tongue, the ministering, sacrificing spirit and a life unstained by the world and its ways.

These all strike with very pointed arrows deep into the heart of me.

My life just now seems a far cry from the quiet Cotswold country lanes Dr. Smith walks. Yet...and yet...wwould not every lane of my journey be quiet and yes, peaceful if these simple requests were followed? If I truly walk with my God, how could I walk other than submissively? How could I be other than unhurried, unstained and quietly peaceful?

A new day, a new focus.

Thanks be to my faithful, longsuffering God and Life companion.
Onward, still onward!

The Best Leftovers

2011-05-20T09:24:00.001-07:00
It has always, to me, been a delight and joy to tidy up after visiting loved ones have gone. Washing the dishes, glass ware, the silver and thinking of conversations, sweet exchanges, the beloved faces with smiles, singing, whatever it has been leads to the recounting of blessings. And yes, to warm feelings and the planting of memory's seeds.

Better still, are the moments after the the great-grands leave. Dishes aren't the items of this picture as yet. It is the blocks found under the chair, the beany bear under the foot stool and the Pooh book left on the footstool.

Then there is also the delightful still life in the kitchen- the cookie tin with the bowl of clementines and a match box racing car deftly set between. In front. At an angle.

Perhaps best of all, the finger prints and nose smudges recorded on French door windows. These are at a rather low level. Only the observant lover sees.

Only a Gran-Nan's heart rejoices.
At least this Gran-Nan.

2011-05-17T08:40:00.000-07:00
The ruffle of the news these days and its focus seems to be on what will or will not occur on the 21st.
This quiet word was in my morning's reading. It seems to put all things in their proper perspective.

And now, little children,
abide settled in Him,
so that when He appears,
we may have perfect confidence,
and not be ashamed and shrink from Him at His coming.
~I John 1.28

My Life as a "B" Movie and Almighty God

2011-05-16T09:55:00.000-07:00
"I've been to that movie".
That is a line originated by a dear son-in-law attached to those recurring commonplace happenings in life. Reruns.

And reruns popping up often enough, while separate and unique, become like walking through the familiar.

The title of this post seems an oxymoron, perhaps almost blasphemous but bear with me a little longer, Dear Reader.

First stated, I know with absolute certainly that my life's plan was laid out in Eternity Past by my loving and faithful Sovereign God. He created in me a spirit that desire peace and order above all. He also strategically has placed events that keep me from becoming too settled or complacent and trusting Him completely.

The rerun aspect is played out by many emergency visits to hospitals in diverse locations in recent years. These have involved the Husband as patient. So here we were again.

Yesterday began as your ordinary Sunday. Sundays are always tiring, that's the by-product of the game.

Then it happened, the sudden onset of excruciating, unrelenting pain and for no apparent reason. After so many minutes it was certain this was not an I'll-drive incident. So a first: 911 called, interminable waiting while scrambling between patient and swiftly moving furniture to clear a pathway for the gurney to come.

Here now is a list of high points with the Finger Prints of the Hidden Hand all over.

A neighbor saw the aid car, immediately called a friend and dear member of our church.
Dear Church person immediately called me and stated she was on the way to drive me to hospital behind aid car.
She and husband (one of our deacons) arrived just after patient had been loaded.

Neighbors on each side, one set out on porch, one to my side.[such is the joy of small town living!]
When arriving at the hospital 30 miles hence, met by another deacon and wife, plus Daughters 2.
Later, yet another deacon arrived. (All these are young and very dear to the heart.)

A young ER RN who knows our Savour. This dear young man - the age of our grandchildren- picked up on the profession line on the chart - "pastor".
Long waiting till medical conclusion. The pain that brought us to this place was only so that other things could be discovered by cat scan, or so it seem right now.
Ready to leave now, the RN placed his hand on the patient and began to pray. And oh, how he prayed! Mostly entreating a God with whom he is evidently intimate to bless us in our future days with grace and wisdom and most of all peace. Now THAT is not something before experienced and an amazing, glorious, evident Finger Print and perfect ending to this movie.

By this time, Deacon Couples one and two had been sent home with profuse thanks, but not before the men prayed with their pastor. Then the Daughters were freed to go as Deacon #3 lives in our town while they do not. He sweetly and graciously waited to return us home.

These and so many other blessings along the way, through the day that have brought us to this place.

How very grateful to be placed in families - by blood, by Blood, with love of all sorts surrounding and protecting, blessing and tending. All these and the above are Divine reflections, Grace points that take Life's common movie moments and touch them with Eternity's gold.

"Your eyes saw my unformed substance,
and in Your book all the days of my life were written,
before ever they took shape
when as yet there was none of them."
~Psalm 139.16, Amp.

A Prayer For One Beloved In Awful Circumstances

2011-05-15T07:15:00.000-07:00

O Thou Who art my quietness,
my deep repose,
My rest from strife of tongues,
my holy hill,
Fair is Thy pavilion,
where I hold me still.

Back let them fall from me, my clamorous foes,
Confusions multiplied;
From crowding things of sense I flee, and in Thee hide,
until this tyranny be overpast,
Thy hand will hold me fast;
What though the tumult of the storm increase,
Grant to Thy servant strength, O Lord, and bless with peace.
~Amy Carmichael

Photo: In Tuscany, by Cindy Swanson

Life Like Soup

2011-05-09T08:33:00.000-07:00
Not a definitive soup like chicken noodle, or Italian vegetable,
rather a gathering from refrigerator remains swirled together with a common broth.

It may simmer long, almost forgotten. Perhaps a crisp fresh ingredient is added for surprise, and certainly fresh garden herbal snippets to make it palatable before serving. But it remains soup, a pottage gathering, a blending of flavors.

This has been Life here of late. So many ingredients.

Nothing new in this, Life is always a mixture of sweet and salty, of pleasant and bitter, limp and crisp. So much depends on the gathered herbs that are added to make it all go down easily.

The ingredients which take left-overs and always make life palatable begin with the Water drawn from the Ever-flowing Stream. The salt of tears is an essential. Then the fresh herb of music of ancient and fellow soup makers is added for seasoning. The serving up and eating is made better by the friend that joins one in the supping of the presented bowl brewed.

Sometimes it is the Presence of The Friend, occasionally a friend 'with skin on'. Both add joy and flavor to the offering. Both give strength and nourishment in order to face another day, another bowl.

2011-05-02T08:41:00.000-07:00

After nearly 40 years in ministry, it still saddens me at all the time and energy depleting ways in which folk let themselves get involve in things church - lower case 'c' intended.

Somehow playing church takes the place of an authentic Christianity which is based on a vital Relationship with Jesus Christ and which builds up the Church, the Body of Christ.

Somehow talking about The Book brings enough contentment. Gatherings, 'book clubs' are chosen as worthy and good things. The deep study of that Book of All Books, that study which brings joy, insight and maturity is never quite grasped.

We recently watched, for the umpteenth time the movie Chariots of Fire. This account of a gentle Scotsman who by his courageous act of conviction, turned the 1924 Olympic games on its head. The account never ceases to thrill me. Eric Liddell was termed a 'muscular Christian'. He was the genuine article. He was a man after God's own heart. He was unafraid to stand up to the pressure exerted by powerful men. Doing the right thing was all Liddell desired. He died in a concentration camp serving his fellow man as Christ would have done. He truly served his God all the days of his life with great grace and quiet joy.

Eric Liddell's life example inspires me today. Even his unique 'head back, chin forward' form as he approached the goal line thrills and delights.

O that I could somehow set my mind rightly regarding activities that are just busy-nesses; O to shake the spiritual lethargy that hinders my progress; O to be able stand in my own little sphere in a truly authentic way and so to make a difference.

I'm too often reminded of the Pastor's Postscript by Peter Marshall:

"Church members in too many cases

are like deep sea divers,

encased in the suits designed for many fathoms deep,

marching bravely to pull out plugs in bath tubs."

2011-04-23T09:28:00.000-07:00
...
What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, was all for sinners' gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior! 'Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy Grace...

What language can I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend.
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord , let me never, never, outlive my love to Thee....
~Bernard of Clairvaux, trans. Paul Gerhardt.

Once And For All

2011-04-22T08:47:00.000-07:00

"Tetelestia!"

"It is finished!'

It is not the sigh of relief at having reached the end of things.

It is the unutterable joy of the artist who, putting the last touches on the picture that has engrossed him for so long, sees in it the realization of all his dreams and vision and can nowhere find room for improvement.

Only once in the world's history did a finishing touch bring a Work to absolute perfection;

and in that day of days a single flaw would have shattered the hope of the ages."

~Frank W. Boreham

"For Christ, the Messiah Himself

died for sins once for all,

the Righteous for the unrighteous,

the Just for the unjust,

the Innocent for the guilty -

that He might bring us to God."

~I Peter 3.18, Amp.

Longings and Belongings

2011-04-10T07:25:00.000-07:00
Those un-named yearnings we feel from time to time brought often
from places locked in memory,
or perhaps by soaring , thrilling music heard,
or some glory seen about us -

"all these yearnings, longings are Homesickness,

a wanting in full what is only hinted at.

These are the things that conjure in our emotions the Things Unseen."

~Mark Buchanan

All these longings are what enable us to keep our eyes fixed on our true destination, our Heavenly one.

In the meantime, these are used by our Lord to make us run away from all our troubles outside and 'go home' to Him, our dwelling place in the Here and Now.

He that hath made his refuge God

shall find a safe secure abode,

Shall walk all day beneath His shade

And there at night shall rest his head.

~Isaac Watts

When April Walks The Land

2011-04-09T09:40:00.000-07:00
Perhaps the way to begin is with the delightful lines from Mr. Browning, those lines about being in England now that April's there. For certain sure, England has a claim on my soul. However, for today I shall stay nearby, after all, the title of his poem is "Home-Thoughts...." So this shall be simple present and past home-thoughts.

There is a certain fragrance in April's air that stirs the heart. The earth is warming, blooms opening, it is hard to describe but to me it is sweet and green. Here in my garden the Andromeda is in bloom. It has a delicious rich fragrance that surrounds me as I dig about. (In fact, its fragrance is the only thing that redeems its otherwise barely attractive messy self.) But gardens and fragrance go together and feed the soul.

Daffodils come first in my garden. Yellow in gardens is not a favorite for me. But it is an essential in Spring. It is the best of cheer after a bleak, wet Northwest winter.

Daffodils for me also bring with them echos of childhood. They were a part of the garden round the house of my growing up to be sure, but not only there. The neighboring farm across the road had nut and fruit orchards. One of the orchards had daffodils as grown cover. It was glorious. My chum (of said farm) and I would walk the hills and gather armloads to bring home to our mommas. Such indescribable riches! I loved picking flowers but momma was very particular about what was picked from the home plots. So that orchard's splendor delighted and satisfied my young spirit.

Down the years there was another daffodil spot, another farm. There was a small vineyard at the side of the house where we lived and under it was another ground cover of daffodils. The children were very young at this time. Daughter # 2 was about three. She would sit midst the blooms happily, plucking their heads, filling her small hands with their glory. Perhaps this was the beginning of her own love of the garden for she is a true gardener as an adult.

Well, there it is, Dear Reader. You were warned. This is only brief home-thoughts of gardens.

There is no real point, or snappy conclusion other than Spring is a time to be savored, daffodil yellow is a fine color and gardens of all sorts are a joy.

Or so I find them.

On Mellowness of Heart

2011-04-07T07:16:00.001-07:00
"When we choose to accept loss,we gain something altogether different. We hold life and others loosely, relinquishing the burden of being in control, and look instead for the small wonders, the tender mercies that help us find peace along the way toward eternity."

~Lisa Graham McMinn

2011-04-06T07:51:00.000-07:00
"The more I think about it, the more my fancy grows upon me, and the more like a Cross the Fingerpost with its outstretched arms, becomes.

That post is the pathetic expression of the Eternal compassion for the wanderer...It is a mute but eloquent witness to His heart's great yearning that before the night comes on, they may all get safely Home!" ~Frank W. Boreham

Waymarkers

2011-03-31T09:26:00.000-07:00
In the past I've written about the joy discovering 'footprints' in books inherited from my parents.

Pristine pages in valuable books are the thing for the book collector and dealer. To me however, I find an inexpressible delight in markings left along margins of a text. Even underlinings , if they do not obscure the print are welcomed.

A recently purchased, previously owned book has been gently marked in a very few places. The notations are neat and in pencil. The thing is, with these marked passages in this book, I am touched by and connected to some unknown reader, and in this case an obvious kindred spirit.

The passages marked, without exception, are ones I would have marked. One of these passages, speaking of life in a country village:
"...it was good to feel the comfort of sunshine, flowers and birds.

Better still, it was good to realise that,

no matter how dark the day, 'cheerfulness breaks in.'"

It had been a 'dark day' in my village and cheerfulness truly broke in knowing that a Dear Unknown fellow pilgrim had left a waymarker just for me, just for that place in time. Maybe that other day for them had required cheer and it was found in the lovely words of the author.

For me then, it was a double blessing as we three unknown to each other were for a moment woven together in thought.

'Tis Spring, the Calendar Says

2011-03-30T10:56:00.000-07:00
In celebration of Springs coming, Celia Thaxter's Island garden on Appledore is featured. Mrs. Thaxter, her garden and garden writings have long been favorites.

Hers was a simple garden crammed with simple, old fashioned flowers. Only flowers she loved were found there. Poppies and sweet peas were at the top of her growing list.

This lady of wit and charm was hostess to many of the literati of her day. One of her frequent visitors was John Greenleaf Whittier. This is perhaps of interest only to me, Mr. Whittier being the first poet I fell in love with in my girlhood days.

American impressionist Childe Hassam too, not only visited the island garden, but immortalized it in his beautiful paintings.

So for today, it being Spring but too drear and wet to venture outside to that new crop of shining weeds, I shall sit inside making lists of gardening tasks to come and enjoy Childe's illuminations and Celia's writings.. with a pot of tea.

Mine is just a little old-fashioned garden

where the flowers come together to praise the Lord

and teach all who look upon them

to do likewise.

~Celia Thaxter, 1835-1894

...And There I Write Thy Praise

2011-03-27T07:19:00.000-07:00

When nature sinks, and spirits droop,

Thy promises of grace

Are pillars to support my hope,

and there I write Thy praise.

~Isaac Watts

Thy testimonies have I claimed

as mine heritage forever;

and why?

they are the very joy of my heart.

~Psa. 119.111, Common Prayer

2011-03-25T08:38:00.000-07:00

"Level to the ground
my Jericho Walls of a rebel heart...
There is much unconquered territory in my nature,
scourge out the buyers and sellers of my soul's temple,
and give me in return pure desires,
and longings after perfect holiness.

~from Puritan Prayers

2011-03-24T08:21:00.000-07:00

From time to time I indulge my passion for vernacular architecture by ordering long lists of titles from our accommodating library system.

The long lists become great stacks as they always seem to come at one time.

Recently a series was discovered that is perfect for chair-travel. The photos, by renowned photographers are plentiful, the text carefully crafted prose - almost poetry. Pure escapism, an indulgence of extreme scope.

In the volume pictured here the loveliest account became the thought for the day.

"In [an] ancient village on the Roman road to Strasbourg" the writer came upon a cottage. The vertical furrowing on the individual roof tiles caught his attention as they caught the morning light. While he stood in the deserted street admiring, a Frenchman came up and asked if he could perhaps help him. The writer inquired about these tiles, their marks.

He was then told that the clay was thrown in a mold. Then the surplus clay was scraped off. "There are the marks of [the maker's fingers], Monsieur!"

Finger prints in the clay - the imprints of the craftsman that catch the light.

Is this not a beautiful picture, Dear Reader, of what we are and are to be?

Today my prayer is this, that my Creator-Craftsman's finger prints can be, not only clearly seen, but also that they catch the Light and reflect that light which also comes from Him.

"...Behold, as the clay is in the potter's hands, so are you in My hand...." Jeremiah 18.6

_________
French Farmhouses and Cottages, Paul Walshe (British architect) and John Miller(British photographer, Rizzoli International Publications, Inc., NY.

2011-03-22T07:29:00.000-07:00

Mellowness of heart
is a way of being
that is openly receptive to God
so that our lives lean toward
a posture of grace,
thanksgiving,
blessing
and goodness.

~Lisa Graham McMinn

2011-03-18T15:29:00.000-07:00

"Happiness is:
a cup of tea
&
a new magazine
&
a chocolate bar."

~Emma Bridgewater,
British craftswoman

2011-03-17T09:13:00.000-07:00

"I arise to-day
Through a mighty strength,
the invocation of the Trinity,
through belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness
Of the Creator of Creation.
...
I arise to-day
Through God's strength to pilot me:
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me...
God's hand to guard me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's host to save me...."

So reads in part, St. Patrick's 'The Deer's Cry'.

Numerous lines have been left out regarding evils from which protection is required.
But one particular reads "against spells of women and smiths and wizards."

Bless him, he knew where dangers lay.

May all the blessings of Patrick's God and ours be yours this day
and in full measure.

2011-03-15T06:29:00.000-07:00

A Mighty Fortress is our
God
A Bulwark never failing.
Our helper He
amidst the flood of mortal ills
prevailing.

Heart Conditions, All Sorts

2011-03-14T10:09:00.000-07:00

There are times, and this is one of them, when a cold, tight band presses round the heart.

It is a time when such a feeling of helplessness is present, when one is banished to the sidelines as a spectator only, when Fear attacks.

Lions not only line the pathway but seem to fill Life's arena.

Perhaps hearts are still a bit tender, emotions still fragile, memories all too fresh from past battles. This old pilgrim is not feeling brave, only vulnerable today.

Not too many miles from here, our tiniest family member begins a challenge not always presented to one so young - at least not in our clan. Her wee little heart, not quite complete, will be meddled with by large surgeon hands, the chubbiness of her little body invaded. Soon even, her wee chest will be opened in the hope that things can be made better for her. On the drawing board, all this looks noble and grand. But it is our own little lass that is the center of all this. That is what seems so frightful, which causes the tears to fall.

But it is not her heart only. There are the very courageous hearts of her young momma and daddy who, like Abraham of old offer their precious child to the mercy of God through the skill of others.

There is the valiant hearted Nana too. Her heart with its yet unhealed scars of poignant loss.

Then on the far side of the world is our young Naval medic, on board ship "positioning to the shoreline of Japan". And here, on this side of the world, his dear young wife. Her heart perhaps more challenged than any. First with all the unknowns surrounding her beloved, the separation which has called on all the faith and strength of her young life. But she is also the auntie of our little one. She too is sidelined in a way, unable to make better all that perplexes.

So then, this is a fragment of the portrait of our family in the present. All are interconnected and family beyond the reach of the present situations are involved. We are bound by a great love, by a Faith that has spanned the generations, by prayer that covers in greatest measure, by a Faithful God in whom we all trust.

Two precious scriptures have come to mind and shine bright this day: "Only a spectator shall you be, yourself inaccessible in the secret place of the Most High...."
and "but cling to the Lord your God as you have done to this day." [Psa. 91.8a, Amp.; Josh. 23.8]

So for This Day, we, in the words of Amy Charmichael, "run clinging, for we are held" for underneath are the Everlasting Arms.

________
My thanks to Louis DeLaForet, who posted his perfect photo on the BBC News page.

Weeds, Stones, Seeds, Frost and Hope

2011-03-11T09:59:00.000-08:00

Of weeds, my garden has plenty. It has been a wet winter in the Northwest after all.

And while there is no documented proof, my cottage must sit on ancient river bed. If that is not the case, then there is such a thing a stone seeds which, along with the weeds, nestle all winter long ready to germinate producing a fine fresh Spring crop. Each Spring, the Man of the Cottage says 'I'll hire the Grandson to remove the rocks from the flower beds'. And each year I remind him that such action would leave such holes we could not afford top soil to fill.

So it goes and the season changes to Spring. Slowly by slowly the weeds are removed, the larger stones are place in piles here and there.

As for seeds, happily my sweet peas for the season to come are in new beds, raised beds. I'm excited to see if blossom production will be up because of this new situation. Slug bait is spread. Wire screening is place to discourage the Garden Cat, She Who Diggeth - other wise known as Lucy Maud. (Yes, she is named after the author by name of Montgomery) Reports will follow on the progress of this planting and protecting effort.

As for hope, well I take the Biblical view of that which is certain, not the wishful thinking that is the worldly mindset. Seed time and harvest are promised to take place in proscribed rhythm. So in that I trust and delight.

Regarding frost, in this instance it refers to our nation's own poet Robert with lines of his evocative poem "Putting in the Seed".

How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed
On through the watching for that early birth
When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,
The sturdy seedling with arched body comes
Shouldering its ways and shedding the
earth crumbs.

Joyous seed time to all.

A Fresh Beginning

2011-03-09T10:13:00.000-08:00
If we pay attention, there are different points of starting over during the year, during life, during pilgrimage. The seasons offer this, but on this day, the consideration is a point of reference in the Church calendar.

I've stated before that I am not High Church in regular practice, but certainly am a closet follower. The rhythm of the church's High Holy days bring a stability, a continuity that my wandering, careless spirit requires. I tend to get out of alignment with normal usage over the course of time!

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. For me, for years, this has been a time of centering, of examining, of clarifying, of simplifying. Through a year's time, clutter accumulates in the home and in the heart. The Lenten season and Spring are perfectly suited to cleaning, clearing and setting to rights.

Ash Wednesday is historically, with the placing of ashes on the forehead, a sign of humiliation. A reminder of who we are and Whose glorious and ultimate humiliation we celebrate this season. And yes, proper humility on my part is indeed appropriate. The lines from Stuart Townend's hymn come to mind "...all the blessings He deserved, poured on my unworthy soul...."

This also includes the idea of repentance for waywardness, foolish choices and points of disobedience adding to the heart's clutter and causing me to get off into what the ancients call 'by-paths'. These also causes me to live beneath my privileges as the child of the King I follow and serve.

Penitence, according to Anglican Dean Paul Zahl is: "seeing things as they are and flinging back that discouraging truth to God to take care of and dispose."

The prophet Joel says : "Therefore also now, says the Lord, turn and keep turning to me with all your heart...until every hindrance is removed and the broken fellowship is restored. Rend your heart and not your garments and return to the Lord your God, for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in loving kindness..." [Joel 2.12-14]

So, Dear Reader, whether High church or Low, Cloister or Chapel, may we go forward into this season with a new purpose and clear focus. As we weed our gardens and freshen our homes, may we apply the same efforts to our hearts that our Lord may be honored and glorified and our steps lighter as we go gently through our world.

Overgrown

2011-03-06T08:03:00.000-08:00

Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow burn, and make me new....
~John Donne

How grateful I am that our God in His gentleness woos and loves me to Himself. Yet there are times when battering and breaking is required. Strongholds, walls, defences of the enemy, of soul-self make total possession by Him impossible.

If I am to be totally occupied with Him, efficient, effective battering must take place. Pain and desolation are not my favorite things. But I must learn to accept His tools, His ways required to bring about that occupation.

My soul seems quite overgrown with brambles and briars of late.
They cling to the crumbling walls of my defences.
There is a dullness that distresses. Like Martha of old, I seem distracted with many things.

This is not the occupation I desire.

Today, battering and leveling are requested that my total occupation once more is Him, my Lord and my God.

This is a good day for it, this Lord's day.

2011-02-24T11:24:00.000-08:00

Snow, beautiful snow has landed generously on our valley. It is glorious. The pristine covering over all that is shabby and unkempt delights the eye.

It is certain, that as it continues, it will become bothersome.
It will become 'snirt' and dismal. We will wish it gone.

In the meantime, I'm a little kid with the enjoyment of it, and as The Neighbor is faithfully scattering feed for our bird friends, the crisp, clean air is filled with song. Lovely.

God thunders marvelously with His voice;
He does great things which we cannot comprehend.
For He says to the snow,
Fall on the earth;...
God brings to a standstill by severe weather
the hand of every man;
...that all men who He has made
may know His sovereign power and their subjection to it.
~Job 37.5-7, Amplified

[The darling squirrel was captured by David Elder, East Kibride, UK. I credit and thank him!]

A Martin Luther Moment

2011-02-21T10:16:00.000-08:00

Dear Dr. Luther once again brought cheer to my day.

Philip Melanchthon, Martin's beloved and trusted friend lay dying. Luther was in great distress and frightened. On seeing his friend, "He then turned forthwith to the window, and prayed fervently to God."

"Then, said Luther, our Lord God could not but hear me: for I threw my sack before His door, and wearied His ears with all His promises of hearing prayers, which I could repeat out of Holy Writ; so He could not but hear me, if I were ever to trust in His promises."

What graphic imagery of intercessory prayer. Throwing ones sack before His door and wearying God's ears with His own promises I find not only encouraging by example, I find it delightful. It makes me smile. A lot.

And yes, Melanchthon lived to continue the fight for Faith with his friend, and in fact out lived his friend.

Today I'm grateful for their example and for the preserved record of this charming account of their faith in our God.

Storms, Trees and Thoughts Concerning Them

2011-02-18T09:36:00.000-08:00

Trees have always played a key roll in my life, a role of pleasure and delight. And storms, well they seem to be one of Life's players as well, not so delightful, but necessary.

At present, we, as well as other
units of our family are in the midst of grievous and baffling tumultuous blasts.

Growing up near the sea, the image of coastal trees is vivid. Their bent forms tell of many storms weathered. Yet they stand in their exposed situations, growing on.
A Life lesson, this.

Then too, in last nights bedtime reading I came across the following. It is from a secular book - my 'light' reading. But is expressed truth perfectly and beautifully.

"...the grass and trees and shrubs had no choice but to yield to the unruly wind as it lashed them from side to side, but they clung fast to the earth and felt very grateful for the roots that pushed down deep and held them in their proper places." [Susan Wittig Albert]

It is all there, isn't it?

The storm rages, yet may we continue like the seaside trees, leaning, bent but unbroken, because through all the seasons of past years, our roots have pushed deep. And as those roots sought the River, the leaves have remained green, still bearing fruit in old age as the Psalmist says that they may be "living memorials to show that the Lord is faithful to His promises; He is my Rock and there is no unrighteousness in Him. [Psa. 93. 12-15]

Selah.

The Day We Celebrate Loves

2011-02-14T07:44:00.000-08:00
Recalling today the earliest and the best *Valentine*.

This from the Love that has never failed or disappointed.

This is the Love that is the sustaining grace of our days.

This is the continuous comfort to and rejoicing of our hearts.

Loved before the dawn of time
Chosen by my Maker,
Hidden in my Savior.
I am His and He is mine,
Cherished for eternity.

~ hymn by Stuart Townend

2011-02-10T08:59:00.000-08:00

Dear Reader,

it seems only fair that I should invite you to join us this day.

It is Thursday - the weekly meeting of the Havarti Club. We are four blessed generations that meet to catch up, have lunch and tea - always tea - and get our weekly ration of baby loves.

This is a joyous season of my life truly never expected..regular time with a much loved daughter, grand-daughter (sometimes more than one) and the dear little great-grands. Truly they are both great and grand. (Not to mention adorable and definitely above average.)

The lad is pictured with his tea. Yes. This is not posed. He has been having tea with us since adept enough to hold his cup. His momma says tea is something he even requests at home from time to time. Gotta love such a lad.

So, should you be in the neighborhood eleven-ish, stop by Hillside Cottage with the blue door.
We would love to share.

Words for the Day

2011-02-09T09:35:00.001-08:00

Books are "my one weakness."

Thomas Jefferson said it best: "I cannot live without books." Book are made up of words which are a delight as well as the proper expression of all imagery, of proper thought.

For today, some of my favorites found in the Book of Common Prayer either in Thomas Cranmer's collects or Miles Coverdale's psalter translation.

~ Betimes ~ Bestride ~ Besmirched ~

~ Becalmed ~ Bounden Duty ~

~ Vouchsafe ~

Perhaps we should form a club by which it is our bounded duty to use lovely old words which are now, all but lost, to common usage.

Confused Directions

2011-02-08T08:54:00.001-08:00

It's not the directions that are confusing. We are given all that is necessary for our pilgrimage, for staying the path, for blessing from God, for fellowship with our fellow man. It is given with clarity - and with repetition in case we miss it the first time.

Whether Deuteronomy or the Epistles, (and other places as well) what could be more clear than the ways in which we are to please our Lord?

Confusion always comes from the enemy. We know this is one of his most effective tactic, especially for stirring up discord among fellow believers, for causing us to miss important signs, for loosing sight of what is to be our real focus, for the way of Peace.

What is our calling? This has been pondered much of late. For me, it seems all can be reduced simply and succinctly.

The obvious starting place is "the choice that is set before us this day". Choice: life or death, obedience or stiff-necked disobedience. Preceding that, we are called to choose blessing or curse and while there is a very long list given for both, it all comes down to serving the Lord in obedience and with joy. And the 'joy' is as important as the obedience! (see Deut. 28.45-48; 30.19, 20) "for it is not an empty trifle for you: it is your very life." (32.47, Amp)

As the people of God, the Body of Christ, in the conducting ourselves rightly with one another perhaps it is wise to remember:

We are not called to be right, but to be righteous,
not to be good, but to be holy.

We are not called to be intellectual
but rather to be wise-hearted and spiritually discerning.

We are not to be agenda driven
but Spirit led.

Ours are not political issues, but Kingdom issues.

We are called to make disciples, to be disciples.

We are to love because of Calvary Love.

And as the Bard said "love is not love which alters when it alteration finds...."

When we miss the mark, the focus, the path, may we have someone not only able but willing to carry us midst the traffic of Life and set us aright once again.

Celebrating Laura

2011-02-07T08:03:00.001-08:00
From the first time she entered our house, Laura remained
not merely a welcomed house guest, rather as a beloved member of the family.

To our family, she added her own: herself, perky, mischievous Laura, sweet Mary, almost too good to be true, Ma and her wise, quiet ways, Pa who always brought change, but music too. And then dear Almonzo.

We delighted in bratty Nellie and Willie getting their comeuppance.
We disliked all that was Mrs. Olson but adored and honored her patient Nels who she in no way deserved.

Their lives became wound up with our own and it was only with adult perspective that we began to realize the thread of faith woven through their lives. Theirs was a time when personal faith was not talked about; it was lived. It permeated all their choices and relationships quietly, without announcement. That is the brand of faith by which you can warm yourself.

So this day, the birthday of Laura , we celebrate. We give thanks for her leaving us her record for us to enjoy,
to call our own,
to provide example.

She has delighted four generations so far and hopefully those coming up will not put her aside as being old fashioned.

"It is still best to be honest and truthful;
to make the most of what we have
to be happy with simple pleasures
and cheerful and have courage when things go wrong."

Laura Ingalls Wilder
1867-1957

2011-02-05T09:03:00.000-08:00

"I shall concede my life's triumph
to growing old triumphantly,
victoriously old."
~Dr. Frank Crane
(and me too)

John Q.

2011-02-04T09:52:00.000-08:00

One always risks one's pride when declaring excitement over information just discovered. When one is of a certain age it is expected that great stores of knowledge have been accumulated. Well
Dear Reader, I can only declare that I love learning and so pass on to you this day something that delighted my proverbial sox off and was quite unknown before this day.

John Quincy Adams was a hymn writer! Marvelous!
He also played the flute.

It has been said that he was one of the most brilliant of US Presidents. Certainly he was one of the most religious. He himself stated that he read the Bible each morning for an hour. Typically, he alternated the language in which he read it. Not your common man, John.

Living in the very heavy shadow of his illustrious father, growing up as he did under public scrutiny as the president's son, serving his country all his life, not to mention being a husband and father, he would have been a man tested along so many lines and in so many ways throughout his years. He rose above crushing defeats yet in all this he trusted and praised his God.

Here, a statement of faith of the trusting, obedient child and pilgrim, John Quincy Adams.

Send forth, O God, Thy light and truth,
And let them lead me still,
Undaunted, in the paths of right,
Up to Thy holy hill.
Then to Thy alter will I spring,
And in my God rejoice;
And praise shall tune the trembling string,
And gratitude my voice.

O why, my soul, art thou cast down?
Within me why distressed?
Thy hopes the God of grace shall crown;
He yet shall make thee blessed.
To Him, my never failing Friend,
I bow, and kiss the rod;
To Him shall thanks and praise ascend,
My Savior and my God.

And the Words Leaped Off the Page and Into the Heart

2011-01-30T08:01:00.000-08:00
And every time it happens there is fresh surprise and delight.

Being in the heat of a grievous battle at the moment, spiritual in nature, not of our own making and not without future consequences, there is a continuous heaviness. And with the heaviness comes a perplexity that refuses to allow the mind to rest. Hence day trudgings and long night seasons with the weariness that walks along side like an unshakable shadow.

But its the Lord's Day. Again. One must put on one's "Sunday Face" and go out the door.

First, as is the habit of a lifetime, devotions.

Once again dear dead Archbishop Cranmer met me with his 'freshly' written collect. So simple in wording, so dynamic in scope.

Almighty and everlasting God,
which dost govern all things in heaven and earth;
mercifully hear the supplications of thy people,
and grant us thy peace all the days of our life.

Govern: to rule by right of authority as a sovereign does; to exercise a directing or restraining influence over; guide; hold in check.
All: the whole of with reference to quantity, extent, duration, amount or degree; the greatest possible; every.
It always comes down to the same Job-ean point: Is God who He says He is? Are His promises trustworthy? All the days? This Day?
It can once again be summed up with that precious Yea and Amen from J.B. Phillips:
He is our God and only the God who is our inescapable contemporary. Immanuel, God with us.
Always. Only. Enough.
Mercy covers.

January Joys

2011-01-27T09:53:00.000-08:00

It matters not what is happening in and around my life, wars and rumors of wars or other distresses, seed catalogs can put it all to rights.

The arrival of seed catalogs in January is as dependable as Spring itself.
The cheer and good hope they bring makes the heart beat faster and at the same time feeds the soul.

The first pages looked at are those with sweet peas. No matter the size of a garden plot, sweet peas are one essential. For me, sweet peas, lavender and roses are the gardening trinity.

Sweet pea seed is the first ordered. Papa always planted the peas - edible and flowering - in February. I try to follow his pattern when possible. There were the years of high mountain living where snow could still be on the ground in June. When it melted finally, sweet peas were planted. Often they bloomed into October when the new snows arrived.

But this year, this very day I ordered my seeds for Spring, sweet pea seeds that is.

Always there is a package of Chatsworth from that great house in Derbyshire. They are a soft lavender, great in size, dependable bloomers and wonderfully fragrant. They are to me about as perfect as as anything can be in the garden.

So with seed ordered, I am reminded that we have a future and a hope and not just in the garden only. Always the garden points to the Unseen, Heavenly things.

And the heart sings.

"Behold the Birds of the Air...

2011-01-26T19:38:00.000-08:00

...their main aim is to obey the principle of life
that is in them
and God looks after them.

Jesus says that if you are rightly related to Him
and obey His Spirit that is in you,
God will look after your 'feathers'."

~Oswald Chambers

The Decline and Fall of Sunday Dinner

2011-01-24T15:41:00.001-08:00

In the long ago misty past, early Sunday morning found Grandma in the kitchen and mama setting the table with Grandma's best china and silverware - on a table cloth, of course. All was in readiness for our return from morning worship service.

Aromas of wonderfulness greeted us as we returned home. Dinner was served. I mostly remember chicken offerings. But what ever form it took it would be done to perfection. Grandma was that sort of cook. We all sat around the table in the dining room. Daddy at the head of the table and Grandma on his right hand. She always sat with her knees pointing to the kitchen and at a moment's notice was up and getting whatever was required. The blessing would be given, and Dad would begin filling the plates one by one and passing them down the table. There was quiet conversation, mostly by the older folk. More often that not, guests were included round the table. It was nearly always a pleasant time. The only firm words were for behavioral issues concerning us children.

Now we travel through the years to our own Sunday table during our Mennonite-farm years.
We raised much of our own table fare, meat included. Dinner most often was a fall-apart roast beef with the spuds, carrots and onions cooked together with the meat and oh, so flavorful. Those were the Halcyon Days and sweetly memorable.

From there we moved to the city. The Dad was now a Youth Pastor. The children were teens or nearly so. More often than not, other teens joined us at table. Always in those days there were evening church activities too. The days were full. The menu now consisted of tuna sandwiches on flannel bread with chips, pickles and Pepsi.

Many changes through the years as locations and cast of characters changed. Now it is mostly we two. And yesterday, as we sat at plastic tables surrounded by noisy slurping strangers, I looked at our Polish dogs on buns and remembered. And then laughed at the evolution of Sunday Dinner.

Memories are lovely things though, aren't they? And yes, the Polish with catsup, onions, sweet pickle relish and a bit of 'kraut are tasty, if not the remembered elegant fare on china plates with loved ones gathered round.

One can even give thanks for a Costco 'dinner' served up on paper and eaten with plastic fork and knife.

(photo from Costco, via Google:)

Wonders That Make Me Smile

2011-01-22T09:57:00.001-08:00

In Honor of Your Birthday

2011-01-17T15:22:00.000-08:00

I just want to say, Thank You, Mr. Milne,
for the delights you have provided our family
through the generations.

You gave us all those charming characters
that have inhabited our lives to be sure,
the delightful stories of their adventures,
and of course, Pooh Sticks.

2011-01-13T08:41:00.000-08:00

"The Lord knows the way
through the wilderness,
All I have to do is follow".

How grateful I am to know my Shepherd,
that He knows each step of the path I must travel,
that He is trustworthy.

Today, and every day, actually, that is enough.

[lovely photo by Charlie Waite, BBC news]

Glorious...

2011-01-05T11:01:00.000-08:00

A glorious throne set on high from the beginning is the place of our sanctuary.
~Jeremiah 17.12

Is not this brief statement of fact immense? Here is a verse, 'read past' numerous times through the years, read past but never seen.

"The throne of God is the sanctuary of the soul.
There is no security for faith anywhere else."

Through history the sanctuary has been a place of asylum, of retreat, of refuge.
To think that we as fugitive pilgrims may flee from the enemy that pursues to the Very Throne established before Time.

No evil can overtake us, capture or detain us. Unless of course we fail to run for refuge to our ever-waiting Father and our God.

Knowing this "May the Lord of peace Himself grant you peace continually, whatever comes."

Selah!

[Google image]

They That Go Down To Sea in Ships...

2011-01-04T07:20:00.000-08:00

We by tradition have not been a sea going clan. While there are those of us who love the sea, or water of any kind, still or flowing, while there are those in our ranks who enjoy 'messing about in boats', it has not been something engaged in as a profession.

It is one thing to watch sea epics, the heroics of Horatio Hornblower and the like. It is quite another thing to have a precious young member of the family deployed on a troupe ship in order to sail beyond our horizon.

That is the reality of this day and I find my heart filled with the pride of the honor of this young warrior and his willingness to serve our country. But also there is, in my very dusty humanity, the presence of anxious thoughts. There is also the overwhelming sadness that I know this going and the separation that is to follow brings to those I love.

This is not a new story, this going down to the sea in ships, leaving loved ones behind. It is as old as history itself. It just has a very different color to it when it become your story, our story.

So off our dear lad goes in this new year. With this will come new challenges for him and his young bride. There will be much to learn in the months ahead. My great comfort is in the certainty that both know their God, are secure in their love for each other, and in His sovereignty and care.

And we at home will follow these every day with our prayers, as they grow in this new season of their lives. We pray Mercy to cover, Everlasting Arms to hold, Grace to strengthen and comfort.

Holy Father, in Thy mercy
Hear our anxious prayer,
Keep our loved ones, now far absent,
'Neath Thy care.

Jesus, Savior, let Thy presence
Be their light and guide;
Keep, oh, keep them, in their weakness,
At Thy side.

When in sorrow, when in danger
When in loneliness,
In Thy love look down and comfort
Their distress.

May the joy of Thy salvation
Be their strength and stay,
May they love and may they praise Thee
Day by day.

Holy spirit, let Thy teaching
Sanctify their life;
Send Thy grace, that they may conquer
in the strife.

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
God the One in Three,
Bless them, guide them, save them, keep them
Near to Thee. Amen

[Hymns Ancient and Modern #595]

The Journey Continues~

2010-12-31T09:08:00.001-08:00

"Behold,

the Lord your God has set the land before you;

go up and possess it,

as the Lord God of your fathers has said to you;

fear not,

neither be dismayed...

The Lord your God Who goes before you,

He will fight for you...

in all the way you went

before you came to this place."

~from Deuteronomy 1.21-31

Another year is set before us 'to possess'.

What better place to begin than with gleaning from the Rules for the Road.

These words and rules, these directives from Almighty God Himself given which Moses set down for us in the book of Deuteronomy.

May we go on our way rejoicing knowing that our Leader has gone before us "to search out a place for us to pitch our tent."

[photo courtesy of BBC News]

Christmas Blessings

2010-12-25T07:43:00.000-08:00
Wishing all a joyous Christmas as we remember our One Great Gift.

The breath-taking wonder of the God With Us - our Guide, our Shepherd, our Protector, our Love, all the days of our pilgrim journey.

Emptied of his Majesty,
Of HIS dazzling Glories shorn,
Beings Source begins to BE
And God himself is BORN!

...Knees and Hearts to Him we bow;
Of our Flesh, and of our Bone
JESUS is our Brother now,
And GOD is All our own!

~Charles Wesley

Remembering With Smiles and Joy

2010-12-14T07:39:00.001-08:00

There were times you made me crazy and times I wanted to throttle you. You were a son, after all.

But those times can perhaps be compared to the pains of child birth, you remember they occurred but over time they recede and blur.
And over time, that which is joyous burbles to memory's surface and there remains.

Memories are personal things and private.
Some are to be shared, some to be kept near the heart. All to be treasured.

Remembered and shared this day:
my delight in hearing your first sermon on the 23rd Psalm and this before you became 'family'
the seriousness with which you proclaimed your marriage vows
the awe with which you held your first born
our quiet conversation in the snow under an Alaskan sky waiting for an Aurora Borealis light show (the show never came but the conversation is etched on the heart)
the silly times when your quirky humor came out
the time you brought down the house with your Belle of Belfast
We remember you this day with grateful hearts.
We think of you every day.
We miss you but we would not call you back from the unspeakable joys you now enjoy.
We do not grieve for you but for our loss of you and we grieve for ourselves being left behind.
Dale Alan Valovich
1956-2008

Obedient As A Shadow

2010-12-13T10:41:00.000-08:00

A fruit of holy obedience is simplicity, simplicity of the trusting child.

"The mark of this simplified life is radiant joy.
It lives in the Fellowship of the Transfigured face.
Knowing sorrow to the depths it does not agonize and fret and strain,
but in serene, unhurried calm
it walks in time with the joy and assurance of Eternity....
in childlike trust listening ever to Eternity's whisper,
walking with a smile into the dark."

~Thomas R. Kelly

Worth More Than A Thousand Words~

2010-12-11T08:23:00.001-08:00

Traveling With A Post Hole Digger and Mr. Spurgeon

2010-12-10T08:59:00.001-08:00

"Set up road markers for yourself; make yourself guide posts; consider well the highway, the road by which you went." So says the prophet Jeremiah and so has been the course of my pilgrimage. The turning points in my history can be traced through hymns and scriptures given and claimed in time of crises and great need.
These, my waymarkers.

God's people have always traveled in this manner, sometimes setting up alters, stones, waymarkers under His instruction. Sometimes on their own like Jacob and Bethel, Samuel and Ebenezer, Joshua and his men at the crossing of the sea. Like Joshua, some of those monuments are visible "so that when the children ask what do these stones mean," the story of God's Sovereignty can be told. Sometimes stones are set up and then covered over, hidden by the waters. These are known only to the child and his God.

But all are for remembrance, remembering the ways in which God has faithfully led and guided, warned and protected, soothed and comforted.

It happened again in a recent situation. I shall spare your, Dear Reader, the grizzly details. Just know it was a soul shattering, spirit disturbing, physically affecting occurrences. Blindly I went to the only source I know of true comfort. Even in that, the easy road was taken, i.e. the Psalter portion for the day. There the Lord met and supplied giving brilliant light to a familiar Psalm read through and passed over so many times before.

Psalm 27 "The Lord is my Light and my Salvation - whom shall I fear or dread?"
[Both fear and dread were present.] "The Lord is the Refuge and Stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?"...

"Though a host encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, in this will I be confident." Here my thoughts immediately ran to a scripture taught at mother's knee, the remembrance of another encampment promised, that of the angel of the Lord that surrounds those that fear Him. A strong and comforting arsenal, that.

There are many more riches in this Psalm, but for me, for now the best is in verse 5, and this is where Mr. Spurgeon called back down the trail of time and strengthened my heart.

"For in the day of trouble He will hide me in His pavilion" [KJV here]
The Lord, says Mr. Spurgeon, will give me the best of shelter in the worst of danger. The royal pavilion was in the center of the army, and round it all the mighty men kept guard round the clock. Thus in that position of divine sovereignty which almighty power is sworn to maintain, we are hidden hospitably by the King'

"In the secret of His tabernacle shall He hide me." Sacrifice aids sovereignty in screening the child from harm. No one of old dared to enter the most holy place on pain of death. And if the Lord has hidden his child there, who could dare enter?

"He shall set me up upon a rock." Immutability, eternity and infinite power join sovereignty and sacrifice.

"How blessed is the standing of the one whom God himself sets high, protected from his enemies, upon an impregnable rock which never can be stormed!"

In the days following the 'incident', these eternal truths have been pondered, rehearsed, remembered. You can be certain that a very deep hole has been dug in the dull clay of the heart to secure a most important sign post.
_____

Photo courtesy of Robert Moseley and BBC news service
Spurgeon's thoughts and insight from The Treasury of David.

Decking the Halls And Cheap Greens

2010-12-06T20:24:00.000-08:00

Decorating for the Christmas season is always a delightful task. But I confess, there is now a faux tree, pre-wired and bulbed only requiring a plug in, at the ready in the attic crawl space.

This was a choice made some years back as the Resident Grinch was always a hard person to convince that cutting, hauling and paying for a fresh tree was a really great thing.

Yet with all the above, I miss the fragrance of real greens. So this year the decision was made-gather fresh greens. While not having much to choose from in my own yard, there are enough trees around to contribute, so....

When we went out and about on our Monday rounds today, the garden clippers were taken. The idea was to stop when it was prudent, of course, and where there was a large branch down by the roadside. We noticed this small one here, that larger one over there and kept driving to Point A on today's list.

Lovely ending to a silly tale: after getting the needful groceries, we noticed evergreen boughs scattered about in the landscaping of the parking lot. (There is a large stand of evergreens near by.)

As we drove away with a trunk full of lovely pickin's, some even with cones attached, Himself remarked: "You really can get almost anything at Costco!" :)

Sweet Repeating

2010-12-05T08:55:00.000-08:00
This is a cautionary tale while at the same time provoking happy thoughts.

Funny how we are repeaters of what we hear. We pick up accents, catch phrases, words we enjoy and make them our own.

Our present life lesson of this is heard continually as our little great-grand-lad goes through his day. He repeats it all, whatever he hears, from all he hears, whether folk of flesh and blood, or his newest friends Pooh and Tigger. It is charming, really while at the same time making one conscious of what and how one speaks!

In today's reading, I came across, in the midst of the familiar something not seen before. Again a phrase heard and claimed. And later on repeated. This time by the apostle John. John chapter 13 gives us the picture. The one whom Jesus loved is leaning back against Jesus, or so reads the ESV, and he hears Jesus calling his men "little children".

So it came to pass, in his writings, John repeats and makes this phrase his own referring to his beloved ones as "my little children".

All this warms the heart, doesn't it? A wise lesson too.

Practicing God's Sovereignty

2010-12-03T08:26:00.000-08:00
And speaking of boldness...

Peter and John before the the great and powerful men of their day, with their activities called into question, preached. The great and powerful recognized two things: that they were common men and uneducated, and "that they had been with Jesus".

The powerful, confronted with Power, became powerless. So they threatened.

Peter and John return to the fellowship. They did not return hand-wringing, nor did they rehearse the threats given them. No. They rehearsed the Sovereignty of God in prayer.

Rehearsing and remembering, beginning with the created acts of universe construction. Then remembering the ancient words of David as well as the acts of the victorious, overcoming Lord Jesus.

Their prayer ended with an "oh by the way, Lord". "Now Lord, look upon their threats and grant to your servants to continue to speak your words with all boldness."

An amazing record, this. It becomes our example when we are up against it - whatever "it" may be. It is "Looking away from all that distracts to Jesus the author and finisher of our faith."

It is seen in Marting Luther's stand when threatened by the pope's man. Martin was asked "and when all your supporters desert you, where will you be then? And our dear Dr. Luther replied: "Then as now, in the hands of God."

So for today, my goal is to rehearse and remember, to practice the Sovereignty of my God lest fear and bleakness gain a foothold.

And may any watching know that I have been with Jesus.

[For scripture reference, see Acts 4. 23-31]

Strong Comfort

2010-12-01T11:18:00.000-08:00
Once upon a time, as a mother of four teens I observed an important fact. My faithful God, in His mercy, never allowed all four to be in teen crisis at the same time.
And there were always crises about. There, at all times was at least one whose days were smooth flowing.

At that same time I learned something far greater in value, that my part was to commit and entrust to Clearer Eyes and Stronger Hands these my darlings.

Such is our family's reality just now. While there are not any situations which could be labeled crisis, as such, still there are many grievous challenges, hurts and disappointments, longings, and physical issues that cause concern. These can weigh like mighty stones on a mother's heart.

So my thoughts go back to the early days and lessons.

To commit is to consign for preservation, for safe keeping.

To entrust in this case is not the dictionary's example of "entrusting ones life to a frayed rope" but rather to One who is a strong cable and a steadfast anchor.

The scripture from which all this springs? The promised preservation and safe keeping of my beloveds?

"...I have knowledge of and am acquainted with Him
Whom I believed, trusted in and relied on,
and am positively persuaded that He is able to guard
and keep
that which has been entrusted to me
and which I have committed to Him
until that day."

~II Timothy 1.12, Amplified

Blessing Drops

2010-11-29T09:10:00.000-08:00

O Thou, whose bounty fills my cup
With every blessing meet!
I give Thee thanks for every drop-
The bitter and the sweet.
~Jane Crewdson

These are Thanksgiving dinner 'leftovers' - the snippets of new memories added to my personal blessing cup. They each are just droplets, yet added together with others hidden deep in the heart, add up to a cup quite overflowing.
I'm ever aware of the fact that as a family we are exceedingly blessed. As we anticipate a family gathering, there is no dread, no fears regarding tensions or unpleasantness that may arise. Fact is, we enjoy each other. There is always much noise but it is the sound of laughter and delight. Sometimes there are the quieter notes of talk on serious subjects. Even there, where there might be disagreement there is no fear of anger or reprisal.
This year there was some doubt as to our even having a family gathering. Yet, in Mercy, the weather changed enough to clear the roads for safe travel. We all were most grateful for this.
Now for some personal, specific drops of joy:
a table set in readiness with candles aglow
daughters that busied themselves in the kitchen with food fixing
a grand son who ably and without a word took on the carving of Big Bird
the family anthem of the Doxology sounding full of harmony and glorious.
[here there is one of those bitter-ish drops - there have been occasions of grief where Doxology singing was a part. These will forever come to mind when we gather and lift our voices]
happy, noisy chatter/clatter of cutlery and conversation
and baby noises. What a glorious dimension these add to our gathering, any gathering.
the hilarious tradition of individual introductions of pseudonyms and professions for the day
at meal's end, three generations of menfolk - to a man - standing without a word and clearing and washing up.
delightful guests joining our ranks this year. Lovely indeed
home for dessert and much conversation -some collective, much choice and individual
and baby-passing, snuggling, enjoying
Wee Lad playing happily with what he knows are the allowed things - sitting reading his books, playing with Noah's Ark, enjoying his basket of rocks, drawing with Grand-Nan's colored pencils.
enjoying the after glow when all had returned to their homes.
finding remnants of the day - a partial banana on the piano top, two wooden sheep in the Cloister chair, rocks in the corners of the sofa.
[another taste of the bitter: those who were absent from our table..because of geography, because of work demands, because of Translation to a more glorious place.
This list may now seem that grand and great, but you see, Dear Reader, for me, each entry has a face attached, the sound of a beloved voice and a radiance inexplicable. With all those family members dear, and with our four littlest ones, our day was spent in the presence of angels. Angels always hover where babies dwell.
The tummies were filled. And so was and is the heart. Such blessings are mine. I take none for granted.
Whether bitter or sweet, all have come from my loving Heavenly Father's hand. Of this I am certain. In this I rejoice.

Thanksgiving Prayer

2010-11-24T20:21:00.000-08:00

Without going back into the archives to make certain, I'm quite sure that last year I posted the following prayer by George Herbert. Yet, for many Thanksgivings of my life it has been a prayer of mine. It is the cry of my heart. So here it is once again, the fragment of a larger poem.

This year we as a family have so much to be thankful for. We are so abundantly blessed. These blessings none of us take for granted I know. There are challenges ahead - and these are those that are known. What we also know and are continually renewing is the fact of the faithfulness of our God, the additional fact that He meets us -always- at our point of need, and that His mercies continue to be new, fresh, surprisingly precious each new day. We can only fall before Him in adoration.

Thou that hast given so much to me,
Give one thing more, a grateful heart...
Not thankful, when it pleaseth me
As if thy blessings had spare days;
But such a heart, whose pulse may be Thy praise.

Are there ever 'spare days' where His blessings are concerned? Never.
So then, the prayer is for a heart whose very pulse praises. Always.

The Best Laid Plans...

2010-11-23T09:26:00.000-08:00
Hmmm. What about this snow? As many years as I can remember (with the exception of the years spent in Skykomish) flooding has been the situation at Thanksgiving. Not so this year.

When serious snow comes to our part of the Northwest, the world pretty much stops. Roads that need to be traveled by family are either back country sorts or killer freeways. Most towns and cities are under equipped to enable life to go on smoothly. So adjustment is required and this year that means dinner plans.

Of course we are all proceeding as though our family gathering will take place. Big Bird will be picked up today. Baking is going on in the different homes. The forecast predicts warming, rains and such. But forecasts have been known to be wrong. Often.

For today, there is a bright sky overhead, the world's activities quieted to a whisper and the garden is blanketed. And for today there is a recipe and a prayer.

Recipe first - for a cranberry chutney. The original recipe appears in the holiday Taste of Home magazine. But as is my habit, I tinkered a bit with this and that. What turned out is yumalicious if I do say so myself. My thought was to have it for the cheese and bread board on Thanksgiving day. However, I've been eating in on my yogurt, and even just with a spoon from a bowl. It is that tasty.

This is the tinkered version:

3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar, packed
1/2 cup water

In saucepan, bring these to a boil and then simmer for about three minutes to dissolve sugars.

Remove from heat and stir in the following:

12 oz fresh or frozen cranberries
2 large tart apples, peeled and finely chopped
1/2 smallish onion chopped
1/2 cup raisins
another 1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 teas ground ginger
1/4 tsp. salt

Return to heat, simmer uncovered 20 or so minutes or until desired thickness. Remembering that cranberries continue to thicken as they cool. Yield: 4 cups

Now from food for the body, food for the soul.

"...We thank Thee for a faith with wings
to lift us above evil and wrong
and to seek the truth.
We thank Thee for the prayer
that builds bridges over the impossible
and gives us visions that all things work together for good
for those who love Thy name.
At this Thanksgiving season we stand in awe
of Thy majesty and whisper,
How great Thou art!"

Prayer written by Thyra Ferre Bjorn in her book The Home Has A Heart,
Holt Rinehart Winston pub.