August 1, 2001

  • Isaiah 3:5 Come, people of Israel, let us walk in the light of the LORD!


    Light.  What a marvelous picture.  Like Kymber I've always been fascinated with the sky and with light.  It is what gives us hope.  Light is what enables us to see, and to move, and to function without stumbling (well most of us--me personally I'm a clutz)  Light can be blinding somedays so much that all you can see is light.  Matthew says the city on a hill cannot be hidden it is a light to all around it.  Light is a marvelous thing   How are you being light today.  How am I.


    In my everyday mundane mommy kinda life.  Light means, not giving into discouragement.  Not yelling at a child who needs discipline, doing it quietly with love.  Not saying I caaaan't, or whining when an obstacle reaches my path.  Light means maintaining a even-kill possibly even a happy spirit.  Something to strive for definitely.


    Today is my Bible Study day.  We all still have colds, but I think I'm gonna drag us out anyhow just so we can get a different perspective on life.  Everybody there has already had the cold--there who gave it to us to begin with. (bluch)


    Yesterday we wandered around outside a lot.  Rob built a trail through our woods to the top of our property.  We still have work to do on it, but it was fun to explore, even if we had to carry kids over salal brush here and there.  Samuel of course has to carry a BIG stick everywhere he goes, and beat things with it just like daddy.  Kaylin was quite content to ride on daddys back.  Zeria was being brave and not crying when the stickers & thistles were taller then she was. 


    Zeria "helped" me pick about a half a gallon of wild blackberrys out of our burn piles.  She had tons of fun, even if she spilled her little handful multiple times.  Ever picked wild blackberrys.  Its an adventure to say the least!  First of all there very small, so 20 berrys is barely a handful.  Second they grow in burns, or clearcuts, or stumps.  And disguise whats underneath.  So you take a step, and wham your down 8 feet 'cause OOOPS that wasn't solid ground afterall.  Needless to say I have scratches all over my arms & legs.  But I love to pick berrys.  I think its because it was something my dad and I did every year.  And he always said I was a "GOOD" picker.  Even if I wasn't  


    Dad and I would sneak out of the house early on a Saturday morning (5 am) to beat the heat.  Bring a dog, to warn us of bears and drive somewhere to a "secret" patch.  Blackberry pickers guarding their patches zealously.  Dawn would be arising and the birds singing.  He'd put me secure in the best patch, and then work around the edges listening to me jabber away.  One lucky day we got to see a bear who was also picking berrys.  (This is why we always brought a dog--he was our early warning protection )  We'd pick until dad had a gallon and I a half a gallon, then come home where mom would have made homemade pancakes as our reward.  And mmm mmm blackberry pies for dinner that night


    Father God, as I go throughout this day let me be the soft gentle light of dawn refreshing people and encouraging them.  Heal our bodies of these colds so we can function better, and enable each of us to honor you today.


    Amen

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