Will it always be winter?

The Long Winter

Day fifteen of the journey came with abysmal failures in purpose and direction. Failure to the point of sitting upon the road side and weeping, as if overtaken by a highwayman thief, beaten, robbed and left for dead. Day Sixteen dawned into a fog, covering the land with the mists, simplifying the complex landscape into only the essentials. Robbed of all my treasure, that is where I begin again. No good man is seen upon this highway. All pass upon the other side. Alone I stumble onward, this prize they say awaits at the end, this crown of life. Can this dead man walk again and claim this elusive, mysterious reward so many have trod before in search of?

A book arrived today, Olney Hymns by John Newton and William Cowper. It is written in the old English, with f's for sés. I leave you with a poem by Cowper.

Winter

See, how rude winter's icy hand
Has ftripp'd the trees, and feal'd the ground!
But fpring fhall foon his rage withftand,
And fpread new beauties all around.

My foul a fharper winter mourns,
Barren and fruitlefs I remain;
When will the gentle fpring return,
And bid my graces grow again?

Jefus, my glorious Sun, arife!
'Tis thine the frozen heart to move;
Oh! hufh thefe ftorns, and clear my fkies;
And let me feel they vital love!

Dear Lord, regard my feeble cry,
I faint and droop till thou appear;
Wilt thou permit thy plant to die?
Muft it be winter all the year?

Be ftill, my foul, and wait his hour,
With humble pray'r, and patient faith;
Till he reveals his gracious pow'r,
Repofe on what his promife faith.

He, by whofe all-commanding word
Seafons their changing courfe maintain,
In ev'ry change a pledge affords,
That none fhall feek his face in vain.

The Kniforspoonpod

Necessity is the mother of invention. My poor little tabletop tripod lost a leg recently. Do not know what happened to it. I took all the legs off the tripod several months ago to rig up a bicycle pod. That was a failed experiment and the pod pieces were relegated to the junk bin.
In the process of getting together a camping kit for the kayak, I had this genius thought. Why not make the tabletop tripod double up as a way to keep my knife,fork and spoon from getting lost by making them into a tripod?
So I drilled a hole through the utensils, twisted the ends in a vise and attached them to the head of the pod. Now I can go about taking photographs and at a moment notice, when hunger strikes, all I have to do is stop and start eating. I am sure that soon REI and LLBean will be calling, so let me go so I can continue perfecting my kniforspoonpod.

Caleb and Shellie

Pearce and Lois Mills

Sixty to One

Two events took place at Grace Church this week-end. The 60th wedding anniversary of Pearce and Lois Mills and the wedding of Caleb Jones and Shellie Kepner. The ends of the spectrum of life. The photographs shown at the Mills anniversary mostly black and white with film camera. The photographs of Caleb and Shellie, digital.

A bonus was having Melanie present at the wedding, despite being in Binsfeld, Germany. Landon set the laptop up, called her Skype number and voila, there she was, able to interact with us. It was great for her and us, as she was able to see and hear the wedding live, and talk to many of her friends in attendance today.

Mr Mills, about to undergo chemotherapy and ozone treatment for colon cancer, had to leave today before the wedding got underway, feeling bad. We need to lift him and his wife Lois up in prayer.

Seraphim Skies

Hymn 112

Angels Ministering to Christ and Saints
Isaac Watts

Great God! to what a glorious height
Hast thou advanced the Lord thy Son!
Angels, in all their robes of light,
Are made the servants of his throne.

Before his feet thine armies wait,
And swift as flames of fire they move,
-To manage his affairs of state,
In works of vengeance-and of love.

[His orders run through all the hosts;
Legions descend at his command,
To shield and guard our native coasts,
When foreign rage invades our land.]

Now they are sent to guide our feet
Up to the gates of thine abode;
Through all the dangers that we meet,
In traveling the heavenly road.

Lord, when I leave this mortal ground,
And thou shalt bid me rise and come-
Send a beloved angel down,
Safe to conduct my spirit home.

Coming out from work, heading for home, I looked up as always. There above was my guardian angel, awaiting me.
I exclaimed to those about me, Ahhh, Angel Skies as I took the ever present Canon A540 out of the front pocket of the shirt and took this photograph.

We the rational, the pragmatic shun the realm of the spirit, the mystical. It is to our sorrow that we walk in a darker light, when all about the brilliant aurora of the uncreated light sparkles His glory. Grant us eyes of faith to see beyond the obvious, beyond the here and now, to the possible eternity.

The Lonesome Lane

Melanie had a good flight to Washington, DC. She sat next to a gentleman from India, living in Texas. They had a good conversation. In DC, she had a stop over for a few hours. There she had a smoothie and a bagel. From there, she boarded a very crowded plane for Frankfurt,Germany. Having a center aisle seat, she was unable to prop her head on anything, did have no familiar shoulder, and thus got little sleep. The ipod she thought was loaded with many songs, only had four.
At 3AM she made it to Germany where Heather met her in the auto. She got to see firsthand the high speeds of the autobahn. She said it seemed only Mercedes and Volvos traveled the roads over here.
She slept most of the next day and has mostly lounged around the house. The house is upscale from the average house in Germany. The lady they rent it from lives in the states as well. It has a goldfish pond with bridge, the woodwork throughout like a swiss chalet.
Already, Melanie is putting in to move. She is in love with the pastoral scenery of rolling hills, crops in the fields, cattle and sheep. There are no large cities. Only villages. In the village she is near, you can hear the church bell tolling. She says it is like going back into the sixties.
We are able to communicate daily via the computer, with Skype. Skype is a free software phone for the computer. You can talk and
see the person if you have a webcam. I can even talk to her via my little ipod touch, which I downloaded Skype into and use a cell phone set of headphones with the built in microphone.
That is the latest and most up to date. She was keeping Ryland and Ella last evening for Heather, who was out. The kids go to bed at 8PM.
This Saturday she is going with them to Rylands soccer match. Just doing simple things, enjoying the laid back way of life.
Wonder if Germany has a need for a nurse and a photographer?

Travelling Home

Hymn 337


The Pilgrim's Hymn
Isaac Watts

Children of the heavenly king!
As ye journey, sweetly sing;
Sing your Saviour's worthy praise,
Glorious in his works and ways;

Ye are travelling home to God,
In the way the fathers trod;
They are happy now,---and ye
Soon their happiness shall see.

Shout, ye ransomed flock, and blest!
Ye on Jesus' throne shall rest;
There your seat is now prepared;
There your kingdom and reward.

Fear not, brethren! joyful stand
On the borders of your land;
Jesus Christ, God's only Son,
Bids you undismayed go on.

Lord, submissive make us go,
Gladly leaving all below:
Only thou our Leader be,
And we still will follow thee.

From Nightfall

Sanctum Come

Hearts of Fire