VOTE – OR NOT!

The first time I remember voting I was in my daddy’s arms. I think it was at the Youth Building, but memories get mixed up in those back-storage files, so it is hard to tell. At first, I remember standing on tip-toes trying to see what he was doing. Then he lifted me up and told me which circle I could color. I’m sure he probably broke the protocol for such things – maybe even the law, but I never forgot.

Mom took me another time. I was a little older, and I think it might have been at the Fire Department. She told me we were going to vote, and that I had to be quiet because it was very important. For some reason, I remember looking at my black patent leather shoes and seeing my mother’s face reflected in one of them as she concentrated on her choices.

Somewhere along the line, I got the idea that voting was pretty important to our family. There were always political buttons being passed out at the Loudonville Fair, being worn on clothes until the first Tuesday in November, and later when they landed in the sewing baskets, I could play with them and put them on my dollies.

President Eisenhower was the first president I remember. When President Kennedy was running for office, it was huge. There were lots of discussions at home about voting. After all, being the first Catholic person to run for president was a big deal, and everyone had an opinion on it – even in our small village. I listened to a lot of it. Yawned through even more of it. But it sunk in – voting was important.

When mom decided to run for village clerk after driving the dry cleaning truck around town for several years, that was also a big deal. Dad and I would go to meetings with her. Help her practice her speeches. Walk around town to hang up posters. Ride around in a car with a great big sign on it. On on that first Tuesday in November, I got to see first hand how important voting could be. Mom won and worked harder than I ever saw anyone ever work.

Someday, I will have to write something “profound” on how that job changed our lives, but tonight’s focus needs to remain on this – voting is important. The last two rounds of campaigns have been ugly. But from what I have read in history and through biographies, this has been true ever since President Washington gave his farewell address.

Today, I was reading lots of history trying to decide what books I would be using in my library class. Our character word for the month is “gratitude”. Makes a lot of sense since we have Veterans Day and Thanksgiving Day coming up. 6 Nations prayers and stories [Iroquois]. Pilgrims first few years. Magna Carta. Plymouth Rock. Crispus Attucks. Moina Belle Michael. George Washington. Then got a little sidetracked by a stack of fiction books all piled in a corner waiting to be catalogued.

That’s what happens when you work with a bunch of books – ya get sidetracked.

Luckily, I know a Father who doesn’t get side-tracked ever. Ever since we walked in a garden and got lost, He has kept His focus on opening a narrow pathway back to Him. As I read several Native American stories today, I couldn’t help but marvel at how similar stories always seem to be pointing at a pathway – a pathway leading home. Be it the Great Spirit or the Wise One, GOD speaks to all of us in language that we can understand because He wants us to “come home”. We have that freedom to walk the path – or not.

Today, we had the freedom to vote – or not. We had the freedom to pray for our choices – or not. We had the freedom to post positive memes – or not. We had the choice to listen to the Spirit speak to hearts – or not. While the seen and unseen principalities are always warring with each other, we always have the choice to believe – or not. Voting is important. But faith? Faith is beyond important.

“For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.

Therefore, put on every piece of God’s armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil. Then after the battle you will still be standing firm. Stand your ground, putting on the belt of truth and the body armor of God’s righteousness. For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News so that you will be fully prepared.d 16In addition to all of these, hold up the shield of faith to stop the fiery arrows of the devil.Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all believers everywhere.”~Ep 6:12-19 

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GUITAR PICKIN’ HOME

I can think of no better way to start a Sabbath than listening to some awesome bluegrass, guitar-pickin’ gospel songs. Probably, because there used to be no better way to fall asleep than listening to my dad, mom and assorted friends sing those same songs. It can pull me into the presence of GOD faster than those fingers can fly over the strings. It also can bring me to tears even faster.
 
Today was one such day. Blessings at every turn. A daughter beside me in church. Grands (albeit a little grumpy at being separated from their friends more than they like) listening to me talk on and on about the Veterans displays spread around our church campus. Another daughter’s excited voice describing life in the monster city of New York. A nighttime prayer in our quiet neighborhood as I take our “girls” out for one last time.
 
“I will praise the name of God with a song; I will magnify him with thanksgiving.”~Ps 69:30
 
Election day is just a two days away. Veterans Day is a week away. Two important days in our nation.
I take a deep breath and pray for both groups of people.
I will go and vote.
I will honor those who sacrifice every day for my freedom to vote.
I offer thankful prayers for both, and feel blessed to have been born for this special time and place.
 
Despite all the chaos that seems to circle everywhere this year, I continue learn from both of these special days. It is one of those rare gifts of freedom that comes with faith. The faith to believe that despite the outward appearance, there is a Hand that continues to bless us when we humble ourselves and remember. I read somewhere this week that there is another way to look at “chaos”:
C – Christ
H – has
A – all
O – our
S – solutions
 
“Yours is the kingdom, O LORD, and you are exalted as head above all. Both riches and honor come from you, and you rule over all. In your hand are power and might, and in your hand it is to make great and to give strength to all. And now we thank you, our God, and praise your glorious name.”~1 Chron 29:11b-13
 
As SSS (Shadow-Spooky-Sparkle) kitten sits on my lap, and I yawn for the umpteenth time, I’m thinking that I’m glad I got that extra hour of sleep last night. The allergies are still keeping me busy blowing my nose, and the flu shot added an extra dimension of coughing, and yet – I totally feel peaceful about tomorrow, the next day and the day after that and the day after that and the day….(I know you get the idea). The peace of God is way beyond my understanding, but today as I listened to those old, time gospel songs and listened to my daughter’s voice in my ear, I felt the peace of Home – where my parents are still singing and a Father holds out His favorite cloak to wrap around my shoulders. Best of all, I have kept “Home” with me all day.
 
Blessings!Be! Sweet Dreams! And may His will be accomplished “…on earth as it is in Heaven…”
 

“You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which will through us produce thanksgiving to God.” ~2 Corinthians 9:11 ESV 

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FANTASTIC GIFTS OF FALL

“Pastor Phil had a farm…”

Yesterday was just what I needed. A day on the farm. The smell of freshly baled hay. Two hayrides out into open fields with parents, teachers, and students. A petting barn full of animals. Dogs, goats, horse, however the cows, chickens and quinea hens were a little stand offish – especially with all the excited kidlets running around, so I couldn’t quite pet them all. (Goats are still my favorite – even if there weren’t any Nubians.)

It was a true “harvest” festival. Pumpkins got decorated. Stories were mixed with songs. Long tables set with picnic lunches. Laughter and smiles on every face – except maybe for Pastor Phil when his tractor got a flat during the hayride. All in all – a day to give “Thank you, GOD, for everything praise in our loudest voices.”

“Land that drinks in the rain often falling on it and that produces a crop useful to those for whom it is farmed receives the blessing of God.”~Heb 6:7

It reminded me how much I miss being on a farm. Born and bred as a “townie“, I was surprised at how well I took to farm life. My in-laws were the perfect mentors for me. Mom K. took me under her wing and taught me to feed chickens, gather eggs, cook, can and freeze. Pop K took me to the barn and taught me to feed the cows, throw hale bales (if they weren’t the huge ones) and stack them in the back of the wagon. I even learned to milk the cows – although, I was never good at it. My one claim to fame was milking out a cow with mastitis when everyone was sick. Pop would laugh every time he told that story, but his voice told me how proud he was that I did it well.

OK – I think I got a little side-tracked into my treasure chest of memories in that last paragraph. What I really wanted to talk about was that being on the farm reminded me of how close it always makes me feel to Our Father. It is one of my “happy” places – a gem in a treasure chest. A place where I sang Pop’s favorite hymns and songs as I cleaned the milk tank. A place where I walked in the cow pasture or the hay field to sit under a tree just to watch the cows, write or pray. There is just something about a farm that opens up my eyes to how blessed it is to be truly known and truly loved by Our Father.

Yesterday, was our own version of Sukkot and full of “Fantastic Gifts of Fall”. it was a blessing to all who were able to be there to enjoy the hayrides, stories, songs, food, fellowship that filled our harvest cornucopia. Throw in the sounds of a few animals, the laughter of children and adults, and it is as close to perfect as you can make it on this earth. 

“This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israel, says: 
‘Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. 
In quietness and confidence is your strength.’ “~ Is 30:14-15

#fivedaystoelection #Godisgood#prayforournation

 

ALIYAH

“I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?”

There are nights when after a full day of walking through his life, that the world seems darker than dark. Angry slurs spew back and forth – separating, dividing, tearing at loose bands that once wove and united one to another.

And the age old question rises once again.

The Book of Life is full of similar stories. People united then torn apart by complaining, whining, power, self-interest. They have a beautiful garden, but want what they want when they want it. They watch the leader walk up a mountain and when he is a little late, they make their own leader out of gold. They get freedom, but don’t like walking. They get manna but want meat. They see the Son of God but He doesn’t fit the description in their heads. They have forgotten the song.

When the Jewish people would journey to Jerusalem for a festival, they would sing Psalms and recite the Torah. It was a way to teach the youngsters, but it was also a way to remind themselves of why they needed to do this journey in life. They called the journey “aliyah”. Today, when a person moves to Israel, it is also called “aliyah”.

“My help comes from the LORD,
who made heaven and earth…”

Tomorrow, our little school is making a journey to a farm. They will take a hayride, pick out a pumpkin, get some pictures taken, spend time with the animals, and listen to some stories and songs. Since Jesus made aliyahs when He walked this earth, I will be reading a story about the Jewish festival Sukkot – the harvest festival. I had to smile when I saw that our principal paired me with the music teacher. After all, it is fitting that the story and songs will go together on an aliyah.

God is like that. When things are darker than dark, He throws a little light into it. A fire cloud that leads us forward and protects our hearts from the chaos. It is just a matter of faith. A matter of looking up to the hills and remembering to ask the question.

Where does our help come from?

It cometh from the LORD who hath made heaven and earth.

“He will not let your foot be moved;
he who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, he who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD is your keeper;
the LORD is your shade on your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all evil;
he will keep your life.
The LORD will keep
your going out and your coming in
from this time forth and forevermore.” ~ Ps 121 A song of ascent. 

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#7daystoelection #7daystopray #7daystolookup

GOD IS SO GOOD

Almost every morning there is a song singing in my head when the last dream ends and daylight starts to filter between my lashes. The thing is – it is always a surprise. Old hymn. Opera aria. Childhood ditty. Praise song. Show tune. And sometimes – something that I don’t recognize at all but leaves a trace of tears in my heart or on my face when I have to give into the urge to wake up.

Logically, I think it must go back to when my mom used to wake me up. It was a rare day when I didn’t have hear her singing somewhere in the house as I kicked the covers back. And – if I wasn’t up on time, that “red, red robin would come bob, bob, bobbin’ it’s own sweet song” , close enough to my ear to chase any remaining dreams completely out the window.

“God is so good…”

The past two mornings, it has been this song. Over and over and over. Popping up throughout the day, as if begging me to notice something – and usually – there was something to notice. A convenient parking spot. Strangers in a hospital waiting room. Golden leaves reflecting a setting son. Grands sharing with each other something special just between them. A headache from getting the flu shot (I always get one when I get a flu shot – sigh). A Hubby sitting by the outside wood stove on a beautiful Fall evening.

“God is so good…”

When the kidlets were little – when we took long drives to MI to pick up big brother and on the way back – we usually had tapes going in the car. Wee sing Bible songs seemed to be a popular one because I still remember most of those songs, AND I replaced that cassette more than once. As they got older the music changed, but for a long time that cassette stayed in the car’s side pocket. When we moved South, I even found one stuck in the corner under the basement stairs (which is a whole ‘nother story for another time).

“God is so good…”

It is 8 more days till the election. My eyes and head hurt. Post nasal drip is yukky. The news is worse. Another school shooting in NC. Politicians blaming each other. A child missing. 18 US volcanoes considered high threat. Earthquakes shaking from the spiritual into the physical. Chaos seems to be shouting from the rooftops in all directions.

And yet – I hear that childish voice on the Wee Sing Bible songs continuing to sing in my head. A whisper of a song that reminds me there is more to this world than what our physical ears and eyes perceive. A reminder that we are His children singing a song to Him with our lives – with the choices we make – with the love that we share with each other. We just have to remember the song and sing it back to Him who sang it to us first.

“You’re so good to me.”

“You are from God, children, and you have conquered them, because He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.” 1 Jn 4:4

If you want to hear the song in my head – jump ahead to about 53 minutes in this link. 

 

PERFECT FALL DAY

“This is the day the LORD hath made…”

I always try to remember these words as I pry my eyes open and stretch for one last time before our “girls” (better known to the world at large as “dogs”) notice movement and start bouncing around my side of the bed. They are adorable as they really do bounce and shove each other out of the way as I try to put my feet on floor. Their joy is contagious and suddenly – the words that follow sing deep within my soul.

“I will rejoice and be glad in it.” Ps 118:24

Today was the “perfect” Fall day. 
Not too cold. 
Sun shining. 
Leaves falling. 
Grands running up the porch ramp for fresh-off-the-grill buttermilk waffles while the adults munched on eggs, mushrooms and sausage. 
Drawing Halloween pictures. 
Reading scary stories. 
Sitting by the gas logs while turning our brains to mush over a wooden puzzle that has stumped many a HMS student in its previous incarnation. Simple stuff that fills the treasure chest with more golden memories.

“Barach Hashem, Adonai. Hear O’ Isreal, the LORD our God is one…”

All too soon, the daughter and family are out the door. Chores are started, and I let my mind drift to he wonder of the rest of the day. Stretching on the inversion board. Hauling 4 wheel barrow-filled loads of mulch. Throwing sticks for the “girls”. Listening to the new neighbors enjoy their own gathering with a few fireworks. Finding a box of pans that I packed 5 years ago. Laughing as Kittie-kittie (formally known as Shadow-Spooky-Sparkle) rolls in the leaves as she tries – at the same time – to trap them with her paws. A perfect Fall day.

“…you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength…” Mk 12:29/Deut 6:5

Since I’ve retired, the Shema has become a constant in my day. As I go about my morning routines. As I wait in lines. As I walk our neighborhood. As I catalog books. As I read the news about violence erupting in our nation again. As I listen to our pastor speak about principalities and tightening our belt of truth. As I pray at five o’clock for our nation and what lies ahead. It is a Fall Day – full of perfect and…….not so perfect things.

“…And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Mk 12:30

As I begin my last set of prayers tonight. I always begin with my own version of the Shema – for the umpteenth time of the day. It reminds me that these are the commandments that Jesus held close to His heart as he walked among His lost sheep. Principles that guided His life. Principles that He shared with us. Love God with a whole heart, soul, mind, strength. Love every neighbor – regardless of how “not-perfect” they are. Love.

In our divided world, we stand at the base of the cross casting lots for a philosophical robe that will slip through our fingers without true understanding of the fingers that wove it or the One who wore it. We forget the Shema of Love that should guide our lives with every word we speak and every deed we set out to accomplish. We are not perfect. The world is not perfect. And yet – we can love perfectly because He first loved us.

Love seems to be the word that was whispered to me today. Perfect Love on a perhaps – not so perfect Fall day.

BTW – I couldn’t have settled down into bed tonight without doing the wooden puzzle again, just to prove I still knew how to do it.   #Gome#perfectFallday #9daystoelection HMS puzzle[personal image]

THERE IS A SEASON

“To everything there is a season…”

One of the awful things about being a quasi-librarian in charge of setting up a K-3 library is being around lots of books – – – ALL DAY LONG. Books that I don’t have the time to look at – let alone read. I do manage to read, skim or read reviews for most of the books that we need this year. But there are some…..S-O-M-E ……ok…… a lot…..that I can’t resist spending more time pondering.

“A time to break down, and a time to build up…”

Some books we just can’t use in our school library so I pass them on to others. Some we will store until we add more grades. Some I am using as resources for our teachers. Some that are just plain too special to pass over quickly. Currently, my personal shelf is occupied by a Betsy Ross biography written by her great grandson (beat up, water damaged, missing pages, but full of that old book smell not-to-mention history told from family historical documents); Priscilla Shirer’s “Prince Warriors Trilogy” (who knew she wrote a young adult series?); or Under God by DC Talk members, Toby Mac and Michael Tait (again, who knew these popular singers wrote a book about American history?).

“A time to keep silence, and a time to speak…”

As the mid-term election enters the last 10 days, I can’t help but wonder about the sacrifices made by all of Our Father’s creations that led to the establishment of this country. Chaos swirled around this land as it swirls around it now. Uncertainty. Anger. Division. Hate. Violence. And yet – in that same space of time – there was a whisper. A whisper of hope that swirled around this land just as it swirls now. Direction. Gratitude. Closeness. Love. Grace.

“A time to love, and a time to hate…”~Ecc 3

Freedom. We have the choice to choose. A choice to love – a choice to hate. A choice to listen to the prince of this world or a choice to listen to a whisper. A whisper that speaks one word to those whose ears are willing to listen.

“Grace.”

And behind the whisper – His breath breathing life into the chaotic dust that He continues to mold into His likeness. A burning bush shining in the darkness for the world to see if we have eyes open wide.

So for the next 10 days, I will be circling prayers. Circling prayers that we are humble enough to be thankful. Circling prayers that we are wise enough to look up. Circling prayers that we find our knees and listen to a whisper. Circling prayers that not our will be accomplished, but “His will be done…

on earth as it is in heaven…”

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PROMISES OF PEACE

In the midst of the past month, we watched two hurricanes pass our way. One with lots of rain – the other with lots of wind. The huge trees that litter many yards and crumpled cars and homes around us is a testimony of winds that exceeded any tornado winds I ever saw in OH.

When I drove to church this morning, I realized how blessed we truly are. The loss of electric and internet are minor inconveniences compared to the utter destruction of homes, businesses, and communities in FL.

“The grass withers, the flower fades, But the WORD of our GOD stands forever.”~Is 40:8

I’ve been reading a lot more over the past few days – done some cross stitch – finished lots of cryptograms (my favorite kind of puzzle) – started working on a couple other Christmas things – and done a lot of praying for those who have absolutely nothing left after Hurricane Michael passed over them.

Yesterday, our power returned and we were able to turn off the generator that had kept our food cold and our water running. 
Today, our congregation was prayed over by missionaries from Africa, and tears streamed down my face. Tomorrow night our church is packing 60 thousand meals to send off to FL, and I get to pick up the Grands. My life is returning to normal while many people will be months and maybe years from normal.

“Neither death nor life…nor things present nor things to come…shall be able to separate us from the love of GOD.”~Rm 8:38-39

I’ve been reading a Billy Graham devotional from 2002 off and on this summer and fall. Throughout the past few days, the prayers centered on praising GOD in all things – especially in difficult times – just as Job did in the OT. I especially identified with this quote full of hope and promise:

“It’s easy to praise after the fact when we receive the healing, the restored relationship, and the financial windfall. It is a true and mature faith that praises GOD in the midst of the trial and trusts Him even before the outcome is revealed.”~Rev. Billy Graham, Oct 14, 2018

And so it was.

As Hubby and I stood on the porch or in the garage and watched the rain so thick that we couldn’t see our neighbors’ homes – were astounded when the top of tall trees reached for the ground – mourned a little when the banana tree’s leaves shred in even tinier slivers or broke completely – listened to our dogs whine and pace while kitty hid in the back room curled in my office chair where she spent so many days as a kitten, I chose to give thanks. I chose to remember to trust. I chose to offer continual prayers of thankfulness. I chose to rely on His promises and found peace in the midst of the storm.

Peace in the storm. 
Peace in the sunset after the storm.
Peace in the inconvenience of daily routines. 
Peace in a fall-blooming iris still standing tall – not one leaf destroyed.
Peace in the waiting for “normalcy”. 
Peace of His blessings following me all the days of my life.

Promises of Peace given to each and everyone of us in His boat.

Can’t get any better than that. 

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DAYS TO REMEMBER

One of the younger Grands had a “family” b-day today. Her actual b-day is tomorrow when she will – officially – hit the double digits for the first time. Confetti balloons. Slime, slime everywhere. Legos here- there-underfoot. Rose water sprayed and re-sprayed. Robot assembly then robot drawing tablecloth designs. Ribbons on packages – ribbons on ponytails. And – ice cream cake to add even a little more sweetness.

 

Truth be told – these are the days to remember.
 
Remembering is one of the things I love about the Jewish and Christian faith. The Bible is full of stories; timeless stories that tell – the good and the bad – the ugly and the poetic – the historical that reaches into the present and even further into the future.
 
The first day of the Jewish festival Sukkot has just ended. It is a week-long festival (you do gotta love a group that know how to throw a festival that lasts for 7 days – full of joy and food). Days dedicated to remembering – remembering the times spent in the dessert – remembering eating food G-D provided and of living in temporary shelters – remembering their mortal heroes who led them through treacherous times and taught them to pray throughout all their days and years – remembering the Father who is always faithful to answer the tiniest of prayers.
 
“Your WORD is truth.”~Jn 17:17b
 
Abraham, father of the faith, walked out of his tent in the morning – before he opened all the sides of that tent to welcome the world – he bent his knees and welcomed His Father – Abba. Gratitude for waking up – gratitude for the new day – gratitude for the storms that may splash enough water into his boat and scare him beyond what he thought was possible – gratitude for the joy of hearing Abba’s voice – gratitude for a Father that will tell the wind to hush and the seas to be still because HE is always in the boat with with His child. (Matt 7:24-28)
 
Those are days worth remembering.
 
Treasure chest days.
 
Festival days.
 
“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”
 

When Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were amazed at his teaching,”~Matt 7:24-28 

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RAINDROPS KEEP FALLIN’

“Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head…”

It has been a weekend of dark, dreary and rainy days. Yet, our big, old bag of wind Florence only brought us a few gusts of wind and about 6 inches according to our rain gauges. Then again, since some of those gusts have kind of blown the rain sideways, some of the rain might have missed those gauges entirely.

Hard to feel excited on dreary days. ‘Blue days’ as my mom used to call them. Got to admit, I’ve wasted most of the past couple days. Could have pulled out the crochet needles – could have read more of my books – could have gone on more walks (between the raindrops) – – – could have done a lot of things.

I just didn’t.

I did do several cryptograms, jigsaw puzzles, on-line word games, baked cookies, read some devotions on-line and off, watched several of my favorite ministers, made a big batch of spaghetti, watched some of my favorite movies, and kinda meandered here there, doing miscellaneous chores that I wanted to accomplish just in case the electric went out. But all-in-all – – – nada, zilch, nothing that contributed anything to anyone – anywhere.

“But there’s one thing I know
The blues they send to meet me
Won’t defeat me
It won’t be long ’till happiness steps up to greet me…”~”Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head”

I really don’t like looking back over my weekend and seeing how much time so easily slipped past me. I did, indeed, let the “blues defeat me”. However, God is good. He opened the eyes of my heart today. I walked the dogs and really listened as I avoided the worst of the slippery red, clay. After all that is what the 10 days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is all about. Holy Days. 
Time to reflect, 
to repent, 
to listen, and… 
to change.

“I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;
I will counsel you with my eye upon you….”~Ps 32:8

Those raindrops keep falling tonight, and I think we have added another inch just since I started writing. Flood and tornado watches are up. The dogs stick their heads out the door and give Spooky-Shadow-Sparkle a dirty look because no one makes her go outside in the rain. So – I think it is time to stretch my knees and start to make my way back to my quiet room. Read a book, listen to some harp music and plan the many things I want to accomplish tomorrow. The Grands are coming for the morning, so lets start there.

“Be glad in the LORD, and rejoice, O righteous,
and shout for joy, all you upright in heart!”~Ps 32:11

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