Sad Neglect

Blogging is like housework. When neglected it piles up, then taunts, then haunts.

Neglect is the mother of procrastination. Procrastination leads directly to overwhelm.

There are reasons why I have not been at my post of late.

Alas, on paper those reasons look alarmingly like excuses and excuses neither enlighten or impress.

The all consuming task of late has been an adult Bible study during the Sunday School hour.

It seems that when there is a vacancy, the pastor or spouse are the ones to fill those spots.

So it came to pass.

This is not something for which I volunteer. Ever.

This time however, it was to teach one. Now that is my joy. But the whole business expanded, extended, blew up and before long it was a full blown class situation with all the challenges and stretching which such events demand.

Confession being a good thing, it truly has been a joy, and perhaps this the first time so for many years. In two weeks, however, it will come to an end. There is relief but also a shadow of sadness. A teacher always is the one to learn and what has been studied and digested for others has been life-changing for this teacher. I am most grateful to our ever-faithful God and ministering Spirit, the illuminated Word plus the trail markers left by the Faithful in generations past.

But now there is gratefulness at once again being able to return to 'selfish' reading - working my way down those ever-present chair and bedside stacks. What is more, Spring is knocking at the door and the garden calls my name:)

Now I leave you with today's thought of importance- the following for this weeks' lesson:

How I long for you to grow more certain in your knowledge

and more sure in your grasp of God Himself.

May your spiritual experience become richer

as you see more and more fully God's great secret, Christ Himself!

For it is in Him, and in Him alone,

that men will find all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.

Colossians 2.2,3, J. B. Phillips translation.

A Thought: Brief But Mighty

"Great God! Our lowliness takes heart to play

beneath the shadow of Thy state;

The only comfort of our littleness

Is that Thou art so great."

~Fredrick W. Faber.

Snippets, Commonplace Books and Mother

Long before email there was the United Postal Service and Mother.

Hers was a life-habit of collecting bits and pieces. These were literary, poetical, historical and scriptural. They were lists of an author's books titles; they were speeches read, notes on sermons heard, biographical sketches. These were written on old envelopes, blank checks, 3 x 5 cards, any paper previously used. (Mother recycled long before that became the thing to do.)
Some were typed, others hand written.

In the early days these treasures would be stuck in books, placed on the windowsill over the sink or mailed to us children. Those mailed did not necessarily have a letter of explanation included, just a quote or pithy saying in an envelope. (But in my early days of mothering, anything from the mailbox was a treat.)

In the early years these mailed snippets were glued in blank books - commonplace books for safe keeping. Later they were just stuffed in whatever I was reading at the time.

To this day, books inherited from her flutter forth these snippets. They are part of my rich heritage. It is always a touch that warms the soul and brings a smile.

This Day once again, Mother long gone, visited me.
And so for you this day, Dear Reader, a sampling.

Meet my Mother. You'd have liked her.


"We are an Easter people
and Alleluia is our Song".
~ St. Augustine

"Here lies a piece of Christ

A star of dust, a vein of gold,

A china dish that must be used

In Heaven when God shall feast the just"

Robert Wild 1609-1679

"He gives me joy in place of sorrow;

He gives me praise in place of fear.

He gives me sunshine for my sadness;

And beauty for ashes here."

"I find, I walk, I love,

but oh the whole of love is but my answer Lord, to Thee.

For Thou wert long beforehand with my soul;

Always Thou lovedst me."

Blessings This Day.

Slowly Learning Lessons

Anne Shirley said "it was a long lesson to learn". Oh how true, oh how slowly by slowly we grasp important Truths.

In our first ministry there was a sainted elderly lady, adored and honored by all. Yet frankly, I found her annoying. Too big a coward to admit such heresy aloud, this guilty secret was kept locked in my heart.

The problem was, she, elderly and infirm would flutter and chirp bird-like "this is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." This was her common response to nearly every question posed. Well of course. Everyone knows the Lord made this day, whatever day it may be.

AND THEN. After a life long fretting pattern, a practiced 'what-if' song, and borrowing trouble from the future, my Lord dropped into my life the reality of those words scribed, then chirped long ago. It came as a swift, sharp, shock, a sit-up-and-take-notice event.

From the bosom of our family, our Lord in His wisdom - and timing - took one much loved. That was (and is) agony enough. But it was in the dying process that the life lesson was framed. There was the day by day, moment by moment grief of the loving wife, a daughter. She ministered with grace, with courage and mercy. Valiantly bathing each step of her pilgrimage with tears. It was in the knowing that a fit, athletic body was being worn away by disease; that a vital ministry was being cut short. It was standing by the grave in the rain, with honor guard posted, surrounded by those most dear singing "Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow".

Finally, the light began to dawn. Each day truly is "This Day". This Day is the only day of certainty. This is the day to accept, to delight in, to accomplish the task at hand. The clarity comes when remembering that the first day created was looked upon as being very good. That the God who made that day as well as this is still present with us. The print of His finger is upon each dawn. Some how any fear is lessened, perhaps even put to rest when recalling this.

He "loads us with benefits daily" says the Psalmist. Or as in another translation : "Who bears our burdens and carries us day by day, even the God who is our Salvation! - Selah/pause and calmly think of that"'.

That's our Reality. This is The Day. So, Dear Reader, let us accept the gift of This Day. Let us embrace what ever fills This Day and truly rejoice in it knowing that the joy of the Lord is indeed our strength.

(There it is. I am now the old lady chirping!)

Sea Gulls, Irish Music and the Call of God

Oswald Chambers wrote that the call of God is like the call of the sea. Both are imprinted deepwithin our spirits and the only way their voices are quieted is by my response.

All bird song moves my spirit, but the cry of the gull does something more, deeper, causing an actual physical sensation. How I love the sea. That love began in childhood and carries on. At present we live about 70 miles inland from the Pacific Ocean. Sometimes after a storm, as we had last night, sea gulls will be blown in. So it was that one lone gull greeted me this morning. Today's demands prevent a drive to the sea and that always makes me sad. The sea is the only place where my mind is quiet, truly at rest, silent.

So with that said, I, in part understand the Call of God in our lives. It is only in responding, going There that our spirits become quiet, at rest. Answering the First Call that brings us to Faith is one thing. It is responding to the daily call, to be still before Him, to desire and practice His presence where we fail. We are ever propelled onward by the tyranny of the urgent, by flutter and flurry.

What about Irish Music you ask, Dear Reader? It's those musical instruments, the pipes, the flutes, the strings gently awakened by the human touch, breath, with a haunting beauty that breaks the heart, penetrates to the back wall of the soul and somehow make the spirit soar.
Add to those sensitive words of a poet and there is no keeping the soul earth-bound.

Recently, the Son-of-my-heart sent me the words of a Stuart Townsend hymn. The words of which are the sea gull call of my soul. It answers today's longings, to know my God deeper, to truly rest and find my All in Him, to be wholly satisfied in Him, to acknowledges and delight in my hope. And not just with lip service.

The last phrases of each of the verses speak with the loudest whispers:

"...I stand in Christ with sins forgiv'n
And Christ in me the hope of heav'n
My highest calling and my deepest joy
To make His will my home.

...He whispers courage in my ear
For I am safe in everlasting arms
And they will lead me home.

...And eve'ry longing satisfied
Then joy unspeakable will flood my soul
For I am truly home."

My thanks to Mr. Townsend and sincerest apologies to him for fragmenting his masterpiece.

You can thrill to his singing his own composition on the following:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyMWBx6vvJo&feature=related

I Have A Hope.

Blessed Geography, An Old-age Mercy

It never occurred to me in the early years, that the time would come when I'd be separated from my children. Of course I knew they would leave home and begin their own families. But the assumption was that they would marry children of those we knew and settle nearby, perhaps an "easy distance" say like that between Longbourne and Pemberly, certainly not over mountains and across borders.

Well, it did not happen according to my carefully written script. They did leave and start family, I mean truly leave as in leaving the territory.

Many were the years of heart-longings, of private tears, even pleadings before The Throne for a nearness regained. During those long years there were times when different ones did visit of course. Those times shone like diamonds on black velvet. Only a very few times have we been gathered all at one time in one place. These are vividly remembered and treasured in mind as well as photo.

Now, in these later years it has come to pass. We are near, at least within a long day's journey to all of them. Well, at least we all live on the same side of the Rockies.

Nearest now, through circumstances that could have only been orchestrated by a Sovereign God, is a part of the clan. And because of that, on frequent Thursdays, there is a meeting together for tea and perhaps lunch. And where do those meetings take place but in my cottage which 'just happens' to be geographic center.

Our smallest group consists of one each from four generations. Imagine! I could not have. A daughter, a daughter's daughter, the grand-nan and most importantly the Wee Man that blesses and delights all our days. Sometimes work schedules permit others to join us. These are golden days for me, heart-bursting days I could not have conjured.

Is there a point or moral to this story? Not really, other than acknowledging the obvious Gift of Grace from Almighty God Himself 'in His time'.

The last note is this: should you be in the neighborhood on any Thursday, Dear Reader, do drop in. The tea is always ready. We'd love to have you join us.

Fixing the Mind

"This history [the Passion of Christ] of the Gospels is so well worn
that it often slips through the head with out affecting the heart.


But if drawing in solitude for a portion of each day, we should select some scene or trait or incident in the life of Jesus, and with all the helps we can get seek to understand it fully...we should find ourselves insensibly interested, and might hope that in this effort of our souls to understand Him, Jesus Himself might draw near as He did of old to the disciples on the way to Emmaus.


This looking unto Jesus and thinking about Him is a better way to meet and overcome...


It is by looking at Him, that the Apostle says, "as in a glass," that we are "changed into the same image, as from glory to Glory." ~Harriet Beecher Stowe


I can think of no better Lenten thought or exercise.
Blessings on Harriet for leaving us this encouragement.