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

I will not doubt, though all my ships at sea
Come drifting home with broken masts and sails.
I will believe the Hand which never fails,
From seeming evil, worketh good for me.
And though I weep because those sails are tattered,
Still will I cry, while my best hopes lie shattered:
I trust in Thee.
--Ann Kimmel

Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines, the labor of the olive shall fail and the fields shall yield no meat, the flock shall be cut off from the fold and there shall be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation. Habakkuk 3:17-18

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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