"The Lord is good to the soul that seeketh Him."
Lamentations 3:25
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The flowers appear on the earth;
The time of singing has come,
And the voice of the turtledove
Is heard in our land.
The time of singing has come,
And the voice of the turtledove
Is heard in our land.
Song of Solomon 2:12
It is always such an encouragement when I begin to notice the calls of birds again after the long, dark days of winter. We've been having masses of mourning doves feeding in our back yard recently. They didn't used to live around here in such numbers, but I'm very glad to have them making inroads here now because I always loved hearing their haunting song when I was a little girl growing up in Ohio. And, of course, the poms get a big kick out of rushing out the back door to disperse them into flight every so often. It makes them feel so intimidating!
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Yesterday I spent a rare and welcome day at home alone, working on some sewing projects. They're not quite ready to show you yet, but I'm making progress on finishing them up, so--hopefully--I can do that soon.
I did finish a restoring project a few days ago.
I found this little pierced earring holder at a thrift shop recently, missing his eyes and with his paint job looking pretty worn and drab. Here he is now, with some new coats of spray paint and googly eyes:
He looks much nicer now! (Not perfect, but then, hey! This is me, the crafter wannabe, doing the so-called restoring we're talking about.)
The original idea was, of course, to fix him up and resell him. Hah! I made the mistake of putting him up on the shelf of big-eye figurines and such that my daughter obligingly arranged for me while she was visiting, and he looked so right there I don't know that I have the heart to part with him. Sigh..... It is ever thus!
But I can change
If I have to
I guess.
(With nods to The New Red Green Show's "Men's Pledge")
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Well, time to get ready for church. (Past time, more like, with this time change!) This isn't a photo of my own church, but it may as well be since it's nearly identical. To my mind, there is something so innately solid and right about worshiping the Lord in an old-fashioned country church with plain Bible teaching and lovely old hymns. But the important thing is not the building, but the God Who loves us, and deserves our praises.
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