Showing posts from March, 2011

Still Mere Chicks

I was sitting with several elderly people in the lounge on the second floor of the rest home. It was a brief period of time together reading and examining a few of the Psalms. (Other times it would be fiction, short stories, poetry.) I had picked three of the more familiar chapters and it was a real treat to hear some of the folks recite along with me as I read.

There was a time when the Psalms were woven into the fabric of many people's lives from school, church and the family dinner table. Not necessarily as a vehicle for Christian witness but as a groping and outreach and thanksgiving toward God.

I reminded the people that for me the Book of Psalms was very much like a "little Bible within the Bible", addressing all of the major themes of redemption and heart conditions of the various psalmists, principally David the shepherd-king. We then had a little review of the Goliath-slingshot episode "to prime the pump".

Together we examined the 121st (protector down fr…

The Day is Done

THE day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me
That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time,

For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life's endless toil and endeavor;
And tonight I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed…

Three Year-Old with a Clipboard

Today at the grocery store I noticed a father talking business with his little daughter in the grocery cart. He had given her in large letters a simple shopping list on a tiny clipboard which he was following with her help. I don't think that she could read the words but she was paying particular attention to the quantities, the numbers. She was also chastising Dad when he appeared to deviate from the plan.

It was a pleasure to observe this little skit and to realize that the child was truly keen to offer help. Dad was milking it for some fun and interaction with his cute little treasure.

I commented with a smile, "She really seems to be taking charge here."

The father responded, "No question about that. She has more power than the Boss!"

My next comment, "Such is the power of love".

The father looked at me quizzically and smiled, "Yeah, that must be it."