Friday, 16 March 2018

The Story of Me (or maybe you)

The bird stopped long enough to help herself to a round crimson rose hip then flew off. It was a blustery sort of day and she wanted to get home to her cozy nest before the storm swept in.  As she battled against the wind some of the seeds fell over a forested area but she clamped her strong little beak on the rind which was the part she was most fond off anyway. The seeds drifted slowly to the ground. They fell into the carpet-like layer of leaves until the snowflakes covered them softly from view. The seeds nestled in deeper and fell asleep though out the long winter. When the warm rays of the sun gently stirred the leaves in springtime some of the seeds had settled in too deeply to notice, some became tasty snacks for insects or rodents but a few sent out tender shoots and roots although no one was around to notice. The few that popped through the surface grew slowly and when the canopy of leaves blocked out of the sun, most of them drooped and were too weak to survive. One was blessed with a sufficiently large patch of sunshine for most of the day light hours to grow sturdily on. One day a woodsman strolled through the forest on the day the plant happened to unfurl her first delicate blossom. The hiker was a plant lover at heart and wisely refrained from plucking the flower, let alone the plant, but carefully marked the area so he could return from time to time to see if the seedling was flourishing. The delicate plant had too much competition so the woodman strategically trimmed a branch or two to let in more light, and in his wisdom found more ways to nurture the growth. No one but him knew how well the sturdy little plant was flourishing and it brought a sparkle to His eyes.
I am that tiny plant. I have grown up shy and quiet, hidden by the towering extroverts surrounding me, but I, too, have a place to fill.

Monday, 12 March 2018

One way to save face is to keep the lower half of it shut.

Friday, 9 March 2018

Good Night!!

Even back in grandpa's time they had something to help you sleep. It was called work.

Two Mother's Twin Daughter! (A book to read after your work is done. lol)

In the midst of World War II, England swarms with Allied troops. Eighteen-year-old Marita Parson falls in love with dashing Canadian soldier Randall Smith and defies her straight-laced parents by, marrying Randall and setting off a chain of events that will forever alter her young life.

Whisked off to that vast land across the ocean, Marita arrives in Canada scared and alone. There she discovers that Randall is not the man he says he is and may even have a criminal past. Going back to England is not an option, and the situation grows even more complex when Marita finds out she is pregnant with twins.
Marita gives birth to identical twin girls, but faces a heartbreaking decision: should she keep both babies and subject them to a miserable life? In an act of charity—or desperation—she gives one of her beloved daughters to a foster mother and tries to hide her grief by pouring all the love she can into raising her remaining daughter, Emily. It is not enough, and she seeks to fill the emptiness in her soul with God’s enduring grace.
When Randall finally returns, Marita faces the ultimate test: should she reveal her secret to him and possibly destroy any chance of happiness she might find?
Two Mothers, Twin Daughters is an inspiring story about the amazing power of God’s redemptive love.

Thursday, 8 March 2018


Now, why did I have to dream about him?  In spite of things that happened in my childhood and teen years, I haven’t been plagued by those kinds of dreams. Why now?
                There was a large glossy topped table between us but it was obvious that he was after me. I would rapidly walk a few steps then stop. So would he. He would cross his arms and give me a slightly sneering grin. I glanced around at the wood-paneled walls. No windows and doors in sight, no escape route. I started moving again and so did he. This kept on for a while. I knew he was just wearing me down in his tormentingly leisurely way.

                I dropped to my knees, putting my head on my arms, and cried out to God. Then my alarm rang.  He vanished, but I was still troubled. Why did I dream about him?
                My husband had an explanation that echoed my own.
                “It was a good dream,” he said. “Because you knew where to turn, you cried out to God.” (Something like that.) “Your Dad represents evil to you.”
                But why did I dream it? Why, why? And then I knew. There are those of you that are facing situations like that. You and ‘him’ seem to be going round and round the table.  He ‘knows’ he will wear you down eventually and is gloating. But will he? Does he have to? No. Sure you have an adversary, but you also have an Advocate. Jesus is our protector and guides out of difficult situations.

                But do you have an advocate? Have you found Jesus to be a haven of rest ‘in the trying scenes of life’ as one song put it?  He doesn’t wave a magic wand and make all your troubles disappear but He will be there for you making you stronger, giving you comfort. Admit that you can’t ‘escape’ on your own. Admit that you are poor and needy in need of a Savior and commit everything to the lovingly Heavenly Father’s care.

Wednesday, 28 February 2018

Unto the End

When a godly parent dies it is hard for the loved ones to watch them go.

Monday, 26 February 2018

Will A Tiny Hole Cause a Flood?

How many of you have grown up hearing or reading the story about the leak in the dike? It’s a legend about a brave little boy who saw a small trickle of water come through the huge earth embankments, dikes that kept the ‘angry sea’ from flooding the land. He stayed up all night, hungry, cold and tired stemming the flood with one small finger, praying someone would pass by, come to his rescue.

Saturday, 24 February 2018

Don't Tell!

Do you remember the story about the boy who owned a pellet gun?