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

Sunday, May 29, 2016

Quiet Sunday at Home

We've got a plumbing leak in the laundry room wall, so we're staying home from church today so my husband can effect repairs. I'll go outside shortly with the dogs and have a quiet time of my own, but first I wanted to share a couple of photos.

First, an Etsy treasury I posted this morning:


It looks like good weather is approaching, much anticipated after a couple of weeks of overcast skies, showers, and cool temperatures. I have a lot of weeding to catch up on, but with beauties like this wonderful oriental poppy I found blooming this morning, that will be a satisfying task:

This morning we caught a glimpse of an injured doe that's been lingering about the property recently. Something's wrong with one of her front legs and she's limping, but she seems to be okay otherwise. She has a fawn with her. I'm glad she's found a haven here and hope she recovers fully soon. 

Perhaps one of the resident pixies will work some magic for her... I catch a glimpse of them every now and then, too.

The pixies seem to appear when Peppy's out alone in the woods.

Meanwhile, I'll just spend a restful day, hanging out with the dogs and some other old friends... May your day be equally pleasant!
Some of the old toys by my computer station. They're always good company.

I walk along the crowded streets, and mark
The eager, anxious faces,
Wondering what this man seeks, what that heart craves,
In earthly places, 

Do I want anything that they are wanting?
Is each of them my brother?
Could we hold fellowship, speak heart to heart,
Each to the other?

Nay, but I know not! only this I know,
That sometimes, merely crossing
Another's path, where life's tumultuous waves
Are ever tossing--

He, as he passes, whispers in mine ear
One magic sentence only,
And in the awful loneliness of crowds
I am not lonely.

Ah, what a life is theirs who live in Christ!
How vast the mystery,
Reaching in height to heaven, and in its depth
The unfathomed sea!

Quoted from The Hidden Life by the Rev. J. R. Miller, D. D.


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