Does Jesus Care?

For my loved ones who have lost a loved one this week, the third verse of a new favorite hymn of mine...

Does Jesus care when I've said goodbye to the dearest on earth to me?

When my sad heart aches till it nearly breaks, does He care enough to be near?

Oh, yes! He cares, I know He cares. His heart is touched with my grief.

When the days are dreary, the long nights weary, I know my Savior cares.

Evening Surprise

Who wouldn't want to come home to this after a day's work?

Summer Picnic

Who could turn down a chance to go on a picnic on a day like this? Especially when put on by your sweetheart?





Simple sandwiches and fruit salad taste like the most luxurious feast in the world when eaten outside in good company.



Once our stomachs had their fill, we sat in the light of the fading sun and read from a Book, life's Light, filling minds with God's thoughts and words. A beautiful end to a beautiful day.

Anniversary

A year ago today, very dear friends united their lives until death parts them. Congratulations to both of you for enjoying the first year of life together!

We Are Nearing Home

I learned this hymn at a memorial service a summer or two ago, and often sing it when I am nearing my physical home after being away. It reminds me to seek after the heavenly home, and to look ahead to it as much as I look forward to being home after traveling.

Just over the mountains in the promised land

Lies the Holy City built by God's own hand.

As our weary footsteps gain the mountain's crest,

We can view our homeland of eternal rest.

Chorus

We are nearing home, we are nearing home!

See the splendor gleaming from the domes afar,

See the glory streaming through the gates ajar!

There we soon will enter never more to roam,

Hear the angels singing--

We are nearing home, We are nearing home!

From the roles of the prophets we have long been told

Of that wondrous city with its streets of gold.

Now with raptured vision we can see it there,

With its walls of jasper and its mansions fair.

Chorus

Those who enter that city are the chosen few

Who keep God's commandments--faith of Jesus, too.

There we'll lift our voices through the endless days

In sweet songs of gladness and in psalms of praise.

Chorus

My brother, my sister, will you meet us there,

In that land of sunshine where there'll be no care?

Accept of God's message and to Him be true,

Then when Jesus cometh, He will call for you!

Chorus

Pick Me! (A lesson in home decor)

"Here the few hours of our stay were not spent in useless labor or in doing that which could be done as well as at some other time, but were occupied in a pleasant and profitable manner, restful alike to mind and body. The house was a model of comfort, although not extravagantly furnished. The rooms were all well lighted and ventilated...which is of more real value than the most costly adornments. The parlors were not furnished with that precision which is so tiresome to the eye, but there was a pleasing variety in the articles of furniture.

"The chairs were mostly rockers or easy chairs, not all of the same fashion, but adapted to the comfort of the different members of the family. There were low, cushioned rocking chairs and high, straight-backed ones; there were also comfortable sofas; and all seemed to say, Try me, rest in me. There were tables strewn with books and papers. All was neat and attractive, but without that precise arrangement that seems to warn all beholders not to touch anything for fear of getting it out of place.

"The proprietors of this pleasant home were in such circumstances that they might have furnished and embellished their residence expensively, but htey had wisely chosen comfort rather than display...The God-given sunlight and air had free ingress, with the fragrance of the flowers in the garden. The family were, of course, in keeping with the home; they were cheerful and entertaining, doing everything needful for our comfort...This was a home in the fullest sense of the word."

--Ellen G. White, 1877

Birthday Flowers

A few days before my birthday, a card arrived in the mail from my mother. I opened it up, and found inside a gift card to go buy flowers.

But there was a catch!

I was not allowed to keep any of the flowers for myself. No, the present to me from my mother was the collection of smiles I would receive from people to whom I gave the flowers I bought.

The store offered big bunches of roses, and for the sale price I was able to purchase four. Four. I'm not sure I've ever felt so rich as when I went through check-out with such an arm-full of flowers.

At home, I got out all the little vases I could find, especially the ones I wouldn't mind parting with. Fourteen or fifteen small bouquets later, I was ready for my mission.



First smiles were the company who came over for dinner and took flowers with them home. Next, a former co-worker, and after that some grandparently folks. Then a former teacher and his wife, and a great aunt and a great uncle.

What lovely visits we had! I couldn't remember having a nicer reason to go visiting, or a better present than the gift giving, and of happy hours with dear friends.

Next day, I took bouquets to the offices and bookstore in our building, but still, I had a few bouquets remaining. A few dried heads took a ride in the USPS, but there were still quite a few left. How could I justify keeping what hadn't been given to me? I needed to find a way to gather at least one more smile.

Like a flash of brilliance, it came to me: I could dry all the remaining flowers, and collect the last smile from my mother herself. And that's just what I did, too.