Seventeen blooms!

The Big Bag of Candy

Back in May I posted an entry by Doris Coffin Aldrich, an author I re-discovered last summer who wrote in the '50s and left 9 children when she passed away after a car accident. My mother then sent me a booklet by the same author. And then, a few days ago, I got an email notification of a comment--the granddaughter of Doris Coffin Aldrich discovered the post, I would assume through a Google search of her grandmother's name. The internet can be a fantastic tool. Who would ever have thought, even 25 years ago, that we could do such things now.

Here's another brief devotional by the same author. She's a far better writer and communicator than I will ever be:

THE BIG BAG OF CANDY
"Where's the Lord Jesus now, Mommie?" asked Jon, nearly three.

Mother paused a minute from sweeping the kitchen floor. "The Lord Jesus is in heaven, Jon."

"And does the Lord Jesus have a bag of candy?"

There was another pause while Mother adapted her theological thinking to the mind of a 3-year-old. "Yes, the Lord has a bag of candy, I imagine."

"And does He have a big bag, Mommie?" he asked with eyes ashine for the answer.

Knowing of His abundant supply, Mother answered, "Yes, He has a big bag."

"Where are the road where we get there?"

Funny little Jon, with his main desire for heaven a desire for material reward. But wait,--along what line does our anticipation lie? Is it the "many mansions," the golden streets, the sufficiency of everything? Or is our anticipation of heaven all aglow with the thought of heaven's dearest treasure--our Lord Himself? Is it what He has to offer, or is it fellowship with Him? What is our interest here on earth?--things, or the Lord Jesus Christ?

Should it not be "Jesus Christ: whom having not seen, ye love: in whom, though now ye see H im not, yet believing, he rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory:? (I Peter 1:7)

In all that beautiful heaven can anything ever efface or outshine one glorious moment--the first, first sight of His face!

Visit from a dear friend

My dear college friend Barby Pearson Mouring came to visit tonight. She's in Greenville for the week and this was our chance to play catch-up for a few hours. Her visit brought back wonderful memories. We were roommates one summer when we were both on summer staff and had a little more freedom than regular students. I remember sweet evenings of fellowship, wading through MY UTMOST FOR HIS HIGHEST and SHADOW OF THE ALMIGHTY together and comparing notes and insights. We also went on a mission trip to Haiti together during Christmas vacation one year. Those were times of great spiritual amazement, awakening, awe. (I'm not really trying to alliterate but it's just working that way.) :-)


And now we're both much further on the journey. She's married, has five children ages 22 down to 7, lives in Virginia, and is busy with her family, homeschooling, and her church. But it is a lovely time of refreshment to remember those good times from long ago with a wonderful Christian friend.

A New Ceiling

Mike walked in about 7:00 tonight and announced that he was finished. After approximately a hundred hours of work, over about eight weeks, he has completed putting a plywood ceiling in his shop/garage.

The old one was basically nonexistent--pieces of insulation nailed between the beams. Dust, insulation, and worse (think small animals) would filter down from the attic and make messes. So Mike decided to fix it.

Several times I went out and watched him at work. His high standards were amazing. He had to work around garage door hardware and openers, the attic door opening, wiring, light fixtures that needed replacing, and other obstacles. But every seam was perfectly straight, every screw placed equally distant apart, every piece cut perfectly. He used narrow pieces of wood as molding to finish the edges. It is a beautiful carpentry job--much neater and more precise than anything I would have done!--and I know he's glad it's done. So in the picture, look at the top--the beautiful new ceiling!

p.s. The boy is improving every day. It was a joy to see him get his guitar out today.

Illness

Well. . .

When one's boy is miserably sick for three, four days with a fever above 103 and piercing backache (even if he's a strapping 18-year-old), so sick that the doctor's office actually calls back the next day to see how he is doing, and that's after the doctor calls the mother back to his office (this after she's trying to wait in the waiting room so that he doesn't think his mother is "smothering" him) to tell her he has an acute form of a mono infection with kidney involvement. . .

Playing nursemaid to a sick kid means little time for fun things like posting on a blog. . . or even to think about what to post of interest.

The Un-Education of Society

I got a bill in the mail this week from the place where I had an MRI done several months ago. The printed name at the top was "Anderson Dianostic Imaging."

A few days ago I called to make an appointment with the same optometrist who checked my eyes a couple of years ago. The girl who answered the phone said confidently, "Oh, he don't work here no more."

There's an AAMCO transmission place right on our drive in to school and church. They have a rolling computerized sign that proclaims that they "Also Fix Cluthes."

Aaarrrrggghhh!!!!

Sweet Sixteen today!!!

Mendicant = Beggar

I stood a mendicant of God before His royal throne,
and begged Him for one priceless gift which I could call my own.
I took the gift from out His hand, but as I would depart,
I cried, "But Lord, this is a thorn, and it has pierced my heart.
"This is a strange, a hurtful gift which Thou hast given me."
He said, "My child, I give good gifts, and gave my best to thee."

I took it home, and though at first the cruel thorn hurt sore,
As long years passed I learned at last to love it more and more.
I learned He never gives a thorn without this added grace,
He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil which hides His face.

--Martha Snell Nicholson