…painfully beautiful mornings when I sit on the porch drinking coffee, weeping, dealing with the pain in my life and the contrast to the spring colors my eyes are feasting on.
I’m reading Scripture, praying, and crying out to God for my needs—which of course He already knows and has answers for.
I went to my cousin’s funeral yesterday. We, my mom and I, took my dad. This is nothing short of a miracle, since the past week has been full of questions about his health progress—or regress.
It does seem that he is getting stronger after his mini stroke a week ago. Thankful.
The funeral was a real witness, evangelical, and uplifting. Hymn medleys were sung with the mighty (and distinctively special) Wooddale pipe organ. Wow. The key changes were masterfully executed, transitions were perfect. Kudos to the organist! My cousin had wanted his favorites sung, so I think we sang about 18 hymns. Seriously, and it was glorious.
Living For Jesus!
Ed picked that some time ago as one of his all-time favorites, and it was one of my cousin’s, too. I think it may become one of mine. Such pretty harmony! Wonderful words. Look it up and play it today. You will be blessed.
Tonight our summer guest, A, and I will help out the worship team at our new church. I don’t know how long this “helping” will last, but I felt the conviction that I should, as the music team was virtually decimated over the past two months. Pleas for help didn’t fall on deaf ears.
I am a musician. You probably know that, regular reader.
I can’t sit still with my gift of music when there is an obvious need right in front of me. I pray that I can be a blessing.
I’m going to be playing guitar tonight, not piano, so I won’t be on my best ability. It should be fun to jam a bit again.
Today I am thankful for how God arranged our summer. Ed is mostly home, working on a project. Cherie works at the hotel about three days a week. My schedule is reduced to being available for helping my mom.
I’m hoping to teach A to drive. She’s sort of a prisoner here in the country, not having her own transportation. She likes the quiet, though, too.
She is from the DRC. I find it very interesting how God weaves themes into our lives. 70 years ago my uncle built a hospital in the Congo. Tandala. That hospital, built under the direction of the Evangelical Free Church of America, is still operating. He came back from Africa, (and his family) and built the house I live in today. That was over 60 years ago.
Today we are loving having A with us, and I can’t help marvel at the ties from the past. Why the DRC? Why not Chad, or Libya, or —–?
God likes patterns.
That is one reason I am such a prophecy buff. The patterns are so evident, and they speak to the future and to hope. They speak to order and expectation. We can live our lives anticipating the return of Christ, our meeting Him in the air (very soon, people!)
God is amazing. When we recognize His fingerprints on this awesome creation and time, events and circumstances we can be wholly reassured that He is in control. We can’t be shaken.
So, when I sit on my porch and weep I can know that my tears aren’t unnoticed by heaven. The life to come is beyond my imagination, but I anticipate it. I may be lonesome and impatient right now, but I am not unmindful of the blessings and care God has bestowed upon me. Can I grieve and be grateful at the same time?
Yes. Because that is what I am doing. I can weep for my loss and marvel at the pale pink/violet color of the tulips blooming in the kitchen garden. There is a group of unexpected tulips that appeared out back of the house. Ed says he didn’t plant them. Did Brian? They are a spot of beauty this year. What a year for tulips at Corgi Hollows!
Yes, spring comes late here in Minnesota. This is the beautiful time of year.
Get those hands in the dirt! Such medicine for the spirit, apparently! Sunshine and scent, grass and loam. Birdsong and frog medleys. Spring is in full bloom at Corgi Hollows.
Thank you, God.
MARANATHA!