Season of Bliss

It is a season of bliss. Of Shirley Temple movies I haven't seen in years (My favorite steadfastly remains Captain January). Of pink lemonade and salty corn on the cob and juicy watermelon, good down to the rind. Of bare feet that detest the restriction of shoes and socks. Of fishing in Great-Uncle Glenn's pond with an exceptional friend willing to handle the worms. Of spontaneous picnics on the lawn. Of car windows rolled down to let in some fresh country air, a welcome relief from the car with long-broken air conditioner. Of fireflies at dusk and bumblebees bathing in sunshine. Of sweet iced tea on hot afternoons. Of Andrew Peterson and Frank Sinatra and Michael Buble and the Irish lads (Celtic Thunder and The High Kings) serenading during chore-time. Of scrapbooking and creating and diving in over my head organizing everything in the house.

Of rereading favorite novels such as Fireflies in December, Cottonwood Whispers, Catching Moondrops (by Jennifer Erin Valent), and Little Women (by Louisa May Alcott). Of blowing bubbles with nieces and nephews and watching the tiny rainbows pop one by one. Of jotting down unorganized ideas for future reference in writing a novel. Of popsicles and sticky hands. Of dirt and sweat and long, hot baths to relax and refresh. Of windows wide open and birdsong drifting in. Of library visits and arms filled with rented books and movies. Of Duggar-family and Avonlea marathons. Of white, fluffy skirts and no bothersome sweaters. Of memorizing the Beatitudes and studying favorite Psalms. Of late nights trapped in a spellbinding book. Of playing the piano with no time restrictions, just playing to the heart's content. Of sketching when a rare feeling of patience settles in (something sketching requires much of!). Of tearing apart rooms and repainting, reflooring, and redecorating. Of watching Emma and Pride and Prejudice with Mom and Bonanza and The Rifleman with Dad. Of smiling and soaking in all the memories. Of praising HIM even in the storms. Of Anne of Green Gables and Swiss Family Robinson with the kids of the family. Of summertime and all of its splendor.

There is nothing quite like summertime. It is golden and promising and memorable, and it is HERE! A gift of grace from our God. Seize the moment :)

His Beautiful Song

Senior trip? completed! Final exams? completed! Graduation? completed! First week of summer? completed!
Time moves on. We can become easily accustomed to the day-to-day activities as if they were dull and lifeless and . . . almost rhythmic. We sigh for adventure and long to escape the mediocrity. But perhaps that rhythm with which we become so bored is part of a beautiful song. God's song for us. 

It flows with the cadence of a happy melody, sometimes accented with the beautiful harmony of people He brings into our lives. The notes drift into melancholy at times, but still HE remains, ever guiding the song.
"But when the song ends . . . What then?" we ask. That's the wonder of this musical life: for us who have been redeemed by Christ, it never ends. When we reach the end of our dwelling here on earth, there occurs a grand crescendo, and a triumphant tune ushers us into our great Musician's presence.


The series of notes in this life is different for each of us, because our Master has orchestrated a song for every person. All of these songs are written to glorify Him. Will we use them for that purpose? Will we thank Him every day for the beautiful music? Will we walk with Him and sing with Him and seek to know our Master more deeply with each passing day? Will we remember Him in the gleeful lines and cling to Him just as tightly in the lines of melancholy? Will we praise Him through it all?

Sometimes it seems as if we can almost hear the music. We can hear it in the laughter of our loved ones, in the cries of those who are hurting, in the gentle drops of rain on the window, in the flapping of our nation's flag high in the air, in the chatter of children, in the scratching of pen against paper . . . and we remember that all of this beauty is from God. All of these are gifts of His grace. Even that which seems hideous for the moment is a part of this beautiful song. We can trust Him no matter what, because He holds the sheet of music, that glorious music that has been crafted by HIS hand.
"Praise God from Whom all blessings flow. Praise Him all creatures here below. Praise Him above, ye Heavenly hosts. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen."