Thursday, October 30, 2008


"He who draws noble delights from sentiments of poetry is a true poet, though he has never written a line in all his life."

Poetry Quote by George Sand (1804-1876)

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Rx for the heart

Thought For The Day

Henry Drmmond's dissertation on the Bible's 13th. Chapter of Corinthians concludes, as did Paul, the author of that epistle, that the greatest thing in the world is love.

"Love is an effect. And only as we fulfil the right condition can we have the effect produced. Shall I tell you what the cause is? If you turn to the Revised Version of the First Epistle of John you will find these words: "We love, because He first loved us. Not we love Him, this is the way the old Version has it, and it is quite wrong. We love - because He first loved us. Look at that word because. It is the cause of which I have spoken."

"Where love is, God is. He that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God. Therefore love. Without distinction, without calculation, without procrastination, love. Lavish it upon the poor, where it is very easy; especially upon the rich, who often need it the most; most of all upon our equals, where it is very difficult, and for whom perhaps we each do least of all. There is a difference between trying to please and giving pleasure. Give pleasure. Lose no chance of giving pleasure. For that is the ceaseless and anonymous triumph of a truly loving spirit. "I will pass through this world but once. Any good thing therefore that I can do, or any kindness I can show to any human being, let me do it now. Let me not defer it or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again."

"The withholding of love is the negation of the spirit of Christ, the proof that we never knew Him, that for us He lived in vain. It means that He suggested nothing in all our thoughts, that He inspired nothing in all our lives, that we were never once near enough to Him to be seized with the spell of His compassion for the world. It means that: "I lived for myself, I thought for myself, for myself and none beside. Just as if Jesus had never lived, As if He had never died."

Sunday, October 19, 2008

"When I am sore beset, I seek some quiet place,
Some lonely room or barren windswept hill,
And there in silence wait apart until--I see again the smile upon God's face, Until His presence floods me like the dawn, and I can hear His whispered, "Peace, be still,
" And know again the strength to do His will.
I turn to take my load and find it gone."
I love poetry...and I wish that the above sentiment expressed my own response to trials..unfortunately, being human as I am I ,more often, fall short of relying whole heartedly on God and his Holy Sprit and what that reliance affords those who put all their trust in Him. :(

Saturday, October 18, 2008

"We Have Been Friends Together"

"We have been friends together, in sunshine and in shade;
Since first beneath the chestnut-trees in infancy we played.
We have been gay together; We have laugh'd at little jests; For the fount of hope was gushing warm and joyous in our breasts."
by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

Friday, October 17, 2008

It was a dark and gentle night...The trees were filled with ghoulies and ghosties carring brilliant orange pumpkins filled with tasty treats. The smell of burning candles filled the air. The sounds of footsteps and children's laughter punctuated by screams of "Trick or Treat" could be heard floating across the whispering breeze. LOOK OUT! Was that a monster from under your bed? Or just your neighbor dressed in costume...Only the shadow knows for sure....

Saturday, October 11, 2008

The Weaver

My life is but a weaving between my God and me, I do not choose the colors he worketh steadily. Oft times He weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride Forget He sees the upper, and I the underside.

Not 'till the loom is silent, and the shuttles cease to fly, Will God unroll the canvas, and explain the reasons why The dark threads are as needful in the skillful weaver's hand As threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.

He knows, He loves, He cares, Nothing this truth can dim. He gives His very best to those Who leave the choice with Him.

Friday, October 10, 2008

The Road Not Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth:
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear:
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden back.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Cowboys Are Special

Through The Years