The thought of God charging angels to “keep watch over you” comforts me, especially since I mostly think of angels watching over children. When my young son fell out of a tree, his sister ran into the kitchen screaming for help. As I headed out the door, he passed me on his way in.
My son-in-law built a charming playhouse for his girls. But to my surprise, he recently converted that same little house into a chicken coop! I now believe the chickens’ shenanigans have provided more entertainment than the girls’ playhouse adventures.
I noticed it in the inner courtyard of a home in North Africa’s Atlas Mountains. Its intricacy reminded me of a Tinker Toy creation. What a surprise to discover it was a handmade stick trap for snaring small birds—a common pastime for local boys while tending their goats.
We once lived in “tornado alley,” the East/West path tornados travel through our state. The first tornado that barreled through our little town left a lasting impression on me. While warning sirens blared, I rushed all four children into the bathtub then squeezed in among them.
The Holly tree in my front yard provided a favorite childhood secret place. Its tangle of branches allowed me access to a forked limb, my special sitting spot.
My neighbor texted me to ask if we had nets to cover the two fruit trees in our backyard to protect them from the anticipated winter weather. I have to admit, I had not even thought about how the cold temperatures could bring death to our trees.
After the unexpected bad weather we experienced a couple of years ago in South Texas, people took the anticipated freeze warning seriously. The forecasted eighteen degrees definitely fell below any normal winter temperature in the South.
We are all on a journey. Interestingly enough each one travels his or her own unique path, but there are commonalities that tend to draw us together.
What started out as a normal Wednesday morning quickly changed into one ordained by God, an indescribable blessing!
When our pastor started preaching from the book of Romans, we received stickers of a visual way to share Christ with others. I stuck mine in my Bible and promptly forgot about it. The day it fell out changed my life and eventually the life of someone else as well.
As I write this, it is still August and still hot. However, in the little garden by my front porch something interesting has happened. The day lilies, whose spent foliage stood like brittle, brown sentinels during the hottest part of the summer, are sending up new green leaves. On more than one occasion, I was sorely tempted to pull up my little garden eyesores and be done with it. Only one thing stopped me: those husks could be providing shade and protection for tender life beneath the soil.
During a recent lunch conversation, a friend and I got on the topic of “significant” birthdays. The particular number under discussion was one looming on her horizon, but solidly in my rearview mirror, making me the expert on the subject.
If you ask young children to name the seasons, some might answer, “Christmas, Easter, July 4th and Halloween.” Following that train of thought, the sign of each new season would be the bursting forth of appropriate merchandise on the shelves of local retailers. Ah, sad, but true…
On day 4 of Creation, God placed two great lights in the heavens. Lights we recognize as the sun and our moon; one direct and one reflective.
As I write this, it is August and it is hot. The recent rains were only a temporary respite from temperatures that promised 90’s and threatened 100’s. But, I know this: the heat of August won’t last forever and better days—days of dappled sun and fall breezes—are ahead. I know that because I have experienced many years and many seasons.
“One, two, three, seven, thirteen, twenty. ““Ready or not, here I come!”
How do you feel about darkness? Copper Breaks State Park in Texas offers darkness as its main attraction. Miles away from city lights Copper Breaks is recognized as an International Dark Sky Park (IDSP). A Dark Sky Park is a land that possesses an exceptional or distinguished quality of starry nights and a nocturnal environment.
My daughter and I used to be angels. Years ago, we participated in our church’s annual Christmas concerts. We were angels with other women and girls, garbed in white gowns and barefooted.
It went with her everywhere… my daughter’s baby blanket was her security for years. They did everything together. She even named it “Bobbie.” When the blanket was over-loved, I repaired it several times. Eventually, it was packed in a family memory box.
It was late at night when I received one of those dreaded phone calls. My son told me that his three-week old daughter was lethargic and in respiratory distress. They were at a hospital emergency room in the Dallas, Texas area.
