Surprised By Truth. Again

Just in the quiet course of today's reading there came that "touch it to see if the ink is dry" moment.

Reading Walter Riggan's commentary to the book of Numbers, this definition of shalom was written:

"...the peace which alone reconciles and strengthens,

which calms us and clears our sight,

which frees us from restlessness

and from the bondage of unsatisfied desires,

which imparts the consciousness of attainment,

the consciousness of permanence

in the midst of the transitoriness of oursel'es and of outward things."

~Montefiore, Jewish scholar.

This is the peace we are promised by our Lord, the peace from Him which the world cannot take away.

That's the word for This Day.

It is enough. 

It is more than enough.

Lord, grant this peace this day.  

Blaze it through each moment,

that in my life  any semblance of this peace can be clearly seen as being from you alone. 



Moving House, or "Here We Have No Continuing City"

The time has come.  The editing of our life has begun in all seriousness.  This will be move # 28 for us in 56 years of married life.  While considering myself an expert packer, moving house is still one of life's traumatic events, let no one tell you otherwise. 

The scale to which we must reduce chattels is major. It isn't so much that I've been a collector as such, more that I've been a saver.  [You don't know what you might need next time round, in the next home etc.] Alas, it adds up to a houseful no matter how it is sated! 

Hopefully, after this move this time, there will be no next time. Lord willing, from this new abode coming, we will simply lift off when we hear The Trumpet.  No packing required.  Or go underground to await that Trumpet.  No packing required for that either.

How does one edit?  Delete? (How I wish there was a 1-click button for this process.) 

In the early years of the Home & Garden channel programing, one addressed out of control homes where clutter ruled.  The family members were shown how to bring order out of chaos, how to let go, get rid of things.

The woman who led this was a gracious woman but ruthless.  One of the phrases she oft repeated, when faced with an item on which much sentimental stress was placed "This is not your Mother" (or father, grandmother, etc).  "Hold the memory", she said.  "If necessary take a photo, but let go".  Sterling advice to this professed Pilgrim.  I'm trying.  With all my profound and spiritually minded statements in times past, I humble acknowledge that I'm a clinger.  I know its stuff.  I know its temporal and "all going to burn."  But still....

 When it comes to closet and clothes editing, my daughter laughingly keeps before us both what Franciscan John Michael Talbot says when choosing the outfit for the day: "Shall I wear brown or brown"?  Its not likely I'll reduce to that extent, but I'm aiming to make the maxim a reality:  "Simplify, simplify, simplify".

So Dear Reader, this is where I've been and where you find me This Day.  There are innumerable cartons to fill. Yet, in the days ahead I will have more thoughts and comments to make, no doubt.  Bear with me and keep tuned in.

In the meantime, eendeavoring to ever keep before myself the absolute and certain fact that truly here we have no continuing City; and that we are looking forward to the City which has a fixed and firm foundation, whose Architect and Builder is God. 

Yet, for now, looking forward to moving to the home of a much beloved daughter.

Now I Remember Why I Love Springtime

Today is one of those blissful days of Northwest Spring.  

The sky is blue, the clouds white and fluffy.  It is bright.  

The air smells of honey.

  

The birds serenade, singing their tiny hearts out.  

Mourning doves coo on the wires overhead.  

The Man Himself is in the Holey Land golfing with his chum.

The garden is full and gloriously green.  Even the weeds look fine and healthy.  Naturally.

And so into the garden.  Whether it is moving seedlings, weeding or just enjoying the scene,  it feeds the soul.  (There is also the unkind reminder that winter time indoors with books and things, while most pleasant, does nothing to keep muscles up to form!)

Today the particular delight is digging up extra baby things to give to a gardening friend who is just beginning.  Ladies Mantle, Welsh poppy, tiny pink violets, all will be shared.  These are among my favorite spring things and being a passionate gardener, I want others to thrill to those plants and thrill me.

Back to other gardening delights. Working and weeding among the herbs remind me why I began gardening 30 years ago.  The bracing smell of rosemary, the  sweet licorice fragrance of Sweet Cicily, this you can almost taste.  Setting out the basil bring to mind all the good eats in the season ahead.  The sage is looking lovely, the nobby heads of the chives are just beginning to color.  The lovage, which is one of my garden essentials, is tall and lovely and has already made its way to the salad bowl.

The red currant bush is now in fruit, its tiny green jewel-like clusters hanging generously about.

The rhubarb has  begun to be 'sauced'.

So there it is for today.  Nothing brilliant or wise to be said.  It's only to share the stirrings that move the soul to the wonder of The Promise.

"While the earth remains,

seed time and harvest,

cold and heat, summer and winter, 

and day and night shall not cease.

...

Yet He did not neglect to leave some witness of Himself,

for He did you good and kindnesses, 

and gave you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons,

satisfying your hearts with nourishment and happiness."

The Long View

Some day of days!

Some dawning yet to be

I shall be clothed

with immortality!

And, in that day,

I shall not greatly care

That Jane spilt candle wax upon the stair.

It will not grieve me then,

as once it did,

That careless hands have chipped my tea pot lid.

I groan, being burdened.

But, in that glad day,

I shall forget vexations of the way.

That needs were often great, when means were small,

Will not perplex me any more at all.

A few short years at most (it may be less),

I shall have done with earthly storm and stress.

So for This Day,

I lay me at Thy feet.

O, keep me sweet, my Master!

Keep me sweet!

~Fay Inchfawn

The Psalter, Wall Words and Small Boys

The small lad in question is the eldest of the great-grands.  He is the fearless leader, the little sister's champion, the one who harasses the next closest cousin.  He is bright, always questioning, gathering information. Now he is learning to read.

On my walls words are stenciled.  Small Lad grew excited the first time he recognized this design as words, words to read.  Up he hopped on the back of the sofa (not an action approved by his mother, by the way) so he could get close enough to read the archway.  It occurred to the Grand-Nan that these were important words and to assist in his reading.  "Lord, You have been our dwelling place in all generations...."  That is why this photo, while lacking in resolution, is so important.  He is listening as the words are read aloud, those dear words that have come down the generations.

Today's Psalter reading begins with Psalm 102.

"..My days are gone like a shadow:

and I am withered like grass.

But Thou,  Lord, shall endure for ever;

and Thy remembrance throughout all generations...

that they may declare the Name of the Lord in Sion..

The children of thy servants shall continue

and their seed shall stand fast in thy sight."

That is the reason for wall words, for repeating them to Small Lad.

My time 'as the grass' is definitely in the withering stage.  

But my prayer for all our dear Grands and Greats is that they will grow, 

stand fast and shine forth in their generations.

And that they will always love words..particularly the Eternal words of Truth.

On The Passing of a Friend

Dora Saint

April 17, 1913 - April 7, 2012

(Miss Read)

A friend is one who is a trusted, a comfortable, easy companion.

While Miss Read and I never actually met, we have walked down those charming Cotswold lanes countless times together. She has pointed out the beauties of that countryside as well as relating to me quirks and foibles of those who live in her favored villages.

How I love Cotswold scenes. They have been my secret place ever since childhood. But I didn't meet Miss Read until adulthood. We were introduced by Beloved Niece and I'm ever so grateful to her, to them both.

Visiting Thrush Green and Fairacre in the companionship of Miss Read has been a favorite escape through the years. These books, these scenes have become delightfully familiar.

They have become places of comfort. And laughter too.

In truth, during these past darkish months, I've pretty much lived in Fairacre; at least in a constant bedtime visitation.

So to you Dora dear, dear friend, rest in peace and thank you for the many hours of pleasure you have provided myself and so many others through the years.

I will continue to visit with you in your countryside in future days.

Count on it.

A Blessed Easter To All

"On this glad day the glorious Son of Righteousness arose...."

These words, penned by Charles Wesley on the one year anniversay of his conversion, express for us all the simple Truth we celebrate This Day.

It is only fitting that this phrase is in the larger hymn familiar to us 'O for a thousand tongues to sing, my great Redeemers praise.'

This hymn of Charles' is all about the freedom we have because of Resurrection power. Each verse tells of yet another freedom that is ours in Christ.

In keeping with this, and the thought that has been impressed on me most this Lenten season is that "He breaks the power of canceled sin...." The Fact of cancelled sin we acknowledge. Yet so often, like Marley's ghost we travel on our way dragging our rattling sin-chains behind us. May we ever remember that sin was canceled and chains broken by the Power of the Cross .

May we walk in freedom as He intended, as He intends.

May we ever remember what Love cost to purchase our freedom.

This Day and always may we rejoice in that great gift. And truly a thousand tongues are insufficiant to sing our Great Redeemer's praise.