lifting holy hands

More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
For what are men better than sheep or goats
That nourish a blind life within the brain,
If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
Both for themselves and those who call them friend?
For so the whole round earth is every way
Bound by gold chains around the feet of God.


Tennyson,
Mort D'Arthur

thank you, Sarah, for the pic!!

a weekly family reunion

We had just come from a wonderful Divine Worship service - beautiful singing, powerful preaching.

We headed out to Christ Church's first picnic of the year. It was Palm Sunday. Upper 70's. Citrus in the air. We had a full table of summer food - pulled pork for sandwiches. Cole slaw. Fresh vegetables. Watermelon. Cookies. Brownies. Double-frosted cupcakes. Icy cold drinks.

As I sat eating and visiting, I looked around. Children of all ages playing together on the playground equipment. Peacefully. Happily. Teens, 20 somethings and 30 somethings playing basketball and sweating hard. Girlfriends and wives and friends were watching. Pastor Garrett playing catch with his daughter. Two young women playing volleyball in the round with some girls. Men discussing theology and the championship basketball game as they kept an eye on children so wives could visit and eat. A grandma enjoying her grandchildren - and her children. Visitors eating with the regulars and laughing. One of the young men - a college graduate cleaning up the playground. Uncle M. spinning, flipping, twirling, balancing kids.

The hours flew by. Suddenly, it was 3:15. The first picnic of the year came to an end. We had fallen in love with Jesus more, with each other more that day. We had worshiped, been fed, then fed each other. We are a family.

thanks to Sarah for the pictures

quoting Dorothy

“The first thing a principle does is kill somebody.”

“Time and trouble will tame an advanced young woman, but an advanced old woman is uncontrollable by any earthly force.”

“Paradoxical as it may seem, to believe in youth is to look backward; to look forward we must believe in age.”

Thank you, Dorothy Sayers