Of Mists and Morning

A quiet morning; a cup of coffee sits on the table; like an old friend, awaiting my occasional attention.

The open Bible; words springing from its pages, speaking to my heart and soul.

The rain's rhythmic plinking against the tin roof subdues even the misty glow outside the window, making it feel like the house is enveloped within a clock, sitting upon the huge mantle of life.
"Tick, tock...tick, tock"; it leads one to retreat to a chair in the corner with a book and warm mohair throw.

But morning still calls...calling more heartily now.  It knows that the easy chair is waiting; a mohair folded on its arm.

The coffee finished; the Bible returned to its place until the evening. 
"There are those dishes",calls morning.
My foot now taps to a new tune of rain plinking against the pane before the sink.

Teach Us to Number our Days

They say that "a picture paints a thousand words".  This shot paints a poem of Fall on Darling Hill.  A walk through the leaves and a spring in the step! ...in both their steps!  I think that Ruger looks like a big black rabbit here!

Each time we walk up our lane, the carpet of orange and gold becomes more lush and the trees more sparse, allowing sunlight to filter through and sprinkle the way with countless specks of gold.   Here and there a bright green or yellow leaf is illuminated and resembles a piece of phosphorous that glows alongside the unlit road on a dark night stroll. 

This is a season of senses being awakened.  The Summer heat is behind and crisp breezes carry a woodsy, perfumed scent that only Autumn affords.   Enjoy it; these days are numbered.  It seems that this is the most fleeting stretch of weeks throughout the entire year. 

The Bible says, "so teach us to number our days; that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom."  Moreso than Autumn, all of our days are numbered.  The believer is to be guided by and used of God every day of his or her life.  Like the spicy scent of this wonderful time of year, our prayers and sacrifices should be a sweet savor in the Lord's nostrils. 

On Darling Hill, the extent of our physical walks are always in the confines of the property.  In our walk of life, the Lord launches us out into the world.  We touch others lives daily, by way of words, in a look or by an action.

Lord, may we be atune to your Word and your leading, applying our hearts unto wisdom, so that your Son can shine through us and strew sundrops to light another's path today.  And may this prayer be answered so that you, not we, will be glorified.

Songs in Late Summer

During lunchbreak yesterday I traveled up the hill to see mom, make a little lunch to eat with her and to drop off the big black kid who stays with us.  He was so excited that his eyes shone and he wiggled with delight, all four feet prancing on the driveway.  Ruger always does this at the mention of his favorite person, Grammy!  He does love her, obvious by the way he approaches and leans against her legs (so she can better pet him), but I often think that it is partly because the words "Grammy" and "walk" are so often used together.  When we leave our house to see her in the evening, we are usually going for a walk, and when Ruger meets her in the yard she is either returning from or getting ready to go for a walk, which Ruger invites himself to join in on, of course!

After getting our lunch together, Mom and I sat on the swing watching the leaves turn color.  At any given point we could count at least two flitting butterflies, seeming to search for just one live clover head, and often flying by, as if on a mission.  Mom said, "I wonder where they're going in such a hurry".  We watched the jets fly over, leaving their tell-tale stream of white which eventually would become one of the many long and straight clouds that we saw streaked above the horizon.  A large gaggle of geese honked their way South to escape the impending Winter that still seems distant on a beautiful day as this (I must say, this would just be too many things to see in one sitting; we did not actually see the geese fly through until 6:30 that evening, on our walk to see Grammy.  I add it now, only for effect!).  The young maple just off the porch seemed to be turning redder before our eyes as Mom spoke, "I hate to see the leaves changing so quickly.  The summer sure has flown by, like these butterflies and that jet." (And the geese, I might add).

I wonder, sometimes. why the end of Summer lays so heavily on my heart.  I hate to think that it is because I am getting weary of Winter and the heavy snows that will soon be upon us.  I absolutely love the bright sun on white and the cold air that freezes around my nostrils on those frigid days of January.  Still, something seems lost when all the leaves turn and fall to the ground, and I find myself almost dreading the dying of Summer and then Fall.  I sensed this in Mom's voice yesterday and it made me realize that it happens to the best of us (as, she IS the best!)  As a believer, I have everything to look forward to.  Every day is put before me for a reason and brings a new adventure and opportunity to the path.  

While these thoughts flew through my mind, the deafening sound of a cricket under the porch broke through, when Mom (always in tune with any spark of nature) exclaimed, "Hear that cricket.  She has not stopped singing since we have been out here."  I realized then that I had been hearing her for months. She lives down there and just sings her heart out ALL the time, though, thankfully she does sleep at night.   

The cricket was a reminder to me that this is just what we are supposed to be doing!  The coming Winter does not hinder the individual who knows that they are in the environment that the Lord has created them to be.  I am in this place for a reason and it is exactly where the Lord wants me, so I  am to be singing constantly for Him, no matter what lies in the future.

I hope that these beautiful Autumn days are as much a joy to you as they are to me.  May the Lord use everything around us to point to Him.  Have a great day.