Let us put by some hour of every day for holy things...

Think on th' eternal home,
The Saviour left for you;
Think on the Lord most holy, come
To dwell with hearts untrue:
So shall ye tread untired His pastoral ways,
And in the darkness sing your carol of high praise.

--from Keble's The Christian Year, Thoughts in Verse



Monday, December 24, 2012

     

     The best gifts of love are those which show a lovely lack of common sense. Flowers (they fade, don't they?) a bracelet (invariably a nuisance). It is usually on the twenty-fifth anniversary that a husband gives a vacuum cleaner or a Mix Master.

     There is a high precedent for all this. The first Christmas gift was highly inappropriate--a Baby in a barn. Who wanted that? No one clapped his hands and said, "Goody, goody, just what I wanted!" That is, no one except a few souls who could really see--Simeon and Anna in the Temple, some shepherds, His mother.

They were all looking for a king
To slay their foes and lift them high.
Thou cam'st a little baby thing
To make a woman cry.   
 
from Like a Mighty Army
By Halford E. Luccock


So long as there are homes to which men turn
At close of day;
So long as there are homes where children are,
Where women stay--
If love and loyalty and faith be found
Across those sills, 
A stricken nation can recover from
Its gravest ills.

So long as there are homes where fires burn
And there is bread;
So long as there are homes where lamps are lit
And prayers are said;
Although people falter through the dark--
And nations grope--
With God himself back of these little homes--
We have sure hope.
--Grace Noll Crowell   
  

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