He could see naught but vanity in beauty,
And naught but weakness in a fond caress,
And pitied men whose views of Christian duty
Allowed indulgence in such foolishness.
Josiah Gilbert Holland, Daniel Gray, stanza 9
Sweet Indulgence
But . . . but . . . but . . . God carresses the earth with beauty every Spring! David Gray maybe never stuck his nose into a lovely collection of spring beauties, suppose?
Hope, like the gleaming taper’s light,
Adorns and cheers our way;
And still, as darker grows the night,
Emits a brighter ray.
Oliver Goldsmith, The Captivity, Act II
This candlestick was in my mother’s bedroom when she was a young girl. She told of forgetting to blow it out at bedtime, once, and nearly burning the house down. Scorch is still visible on it, in places.
We must always be cautious about hope, not to let it burn too long without checking on it. Let’s always remember the purpose of hope is to lead us to something better. Let’s never merely hope for hope’s sake.
It’s all about follow-through. Yes, hope lights the darkness, but those who sleep don’t need it.
I recently mentioned resenting interrupted Thanksgiving Days, but today’s post begins the tale of two interrupted Thanksgivings and their attending blessings. Hope you enjoy them.
The first one was when my youngest two sons were about 8 and 6. We were about to leave for our annual “over the river and through the woods”.
Our children had laid out all their clothing according to the master list I provided years ago and stored in each suitcase. (Remember, I was a home-school mom.) Last minute details on cleaning the house before we left were panning out nicely. (I was a bit OCD about coming home to a dirty house.) (Okay, I was a bit OCD about “what if we had a wreck and someone had to come into our house . . . “)
Anyway, we were near completion on everything. The only thing remaining was supper, baths, and sleep, during which I would pack all that nicely laid-out clothing and then sleep during the trip.
I was on schedule and smiling at myself on the inside. In a carefree voice, I told my kids to go out and play, that all the biggest chores were done.
In a few moments they came back inside, the 8-year-old with his arm broken.
My husband had a late meeting that night, so it fell on me to drop all packing chores and take the poor babe to the doctor. It was so late, I called first, and our wonderful family practitioner said if I came straight there, they would stay open for me. That was blessing #1.
One x-ray told all: My son’s injury was the type of break that would require an orthopedist to finish breaking, which was a surgical procedure requiring an overnight stay in the hospital. So after a couple of calls to my husband and to our house, we traveled on to the next town and succumbed to the ministrations of ER. Once there, the inevitable questions came, about who and how this child could be so severely injured. It was a downer, but along came my husband’s close friend, who happened to be the ER physician on call that night, to vouch for me, and to give me his own phone number for “who to call in case of an emergency” when I could not remember my own mother’s phone number. Blessing #2.
(That poor ER nurse was certain I was a childbeater, but what could she say?) Blessing #3.
Anyway, our family doctor had called ahead to our preferred orthopedist, who dropped everything and came to our rescue. Literally, he arrived in the ER in a tux. When I apologized for calling him from such a special occasion, he said, “Are you kidding? I would have taken any excuse to get out of there!” I count that as blessing #4.
Sure, enough, our son had to remain in the hospital overnight, and our entire plans for Thanksgiving were canceled. Our families, 500 miles to the north, were totally disappointed, as we were, too, of course, but we all were more concerned about this little boy and his well-being. Hard to recognize blessing #5. Hey, not everyone has this kind of understanding in their families.
If you’ve read many of my posts, you know we take Thanksgiving Day quite seriously in our family. I immediately began thinking about the get-together our small Bible-study group had planned, for celebrating Thanksgiving, that we had thought we would miss because of going to be with family. I made a couple of calls and we soon had a very special celebration lined up with these other people we loved almost like family. Blessing #6.
The boys sign the cast (Photo credit: samwebster)
Our son was mending, but still woozy from pain killers, and even then, still in some pain, but we all went to celebrate with these friends in one of their homes. They took us in like the orphans we felt we were. All their children treated our injured son to amazing understanding and rare privileges children reserve only for those times when life pleads that we be kind. (Blessing #7)
We were glad to be there, to be thankful for blessings we knew of, never realizing that God was busy, preparing other blessings not so obvious, indeed, of which we could never have even dreamed . . .
Not much to say about the following. It is from the Word, and I hope you read it. There’s a test afterward. No fair looking ahead!
This was written by Paul, the Apostle, to illustrate how anyone might feel. He, of course, had moved past this point he describes, by the time he actually wrote it, but his candor amazes and comforts me so!
Romans 7:14-25
We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do, I do not do, but what I hate, I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do, no the evil I do not want to do–this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.
So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law, but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? THANKS BE TO GOD–THROUGH JESUS CHRIST OUR LORD! –Romans 7:14-25
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It is hard for me to believe something so relevant was written about 2000 years ago. This writer did an about-face from being a murdering, self-righteous prig, to someone who would die for others, slave over a parchment with a sputtering candle and a scritching plume/pen in a cold jail cell, just to bring such truths to us. I love ancient writings, especially when they point to the Truth. I introduce this section to illustrate what we mean by the word soul and to show, in case you’ve been feeling weak, lately, how totally insufficient we are, in our own strength, and Who can help.
Paul knew.
Okay, you will find the test in the comments section, as the first comment. No peeking.
Home's Cool! 