It’s a cold Saturday morning at Shady Acres. The warmth of the house wraps itself around me and reminds me once again of how good I have it. If anyone has been keeping track of things, you maybe have noticed that I haven’t mentioned “our kids from Argos Corner” for a few weeks. That is because they have been taken out of our lives abruptly and completely. Long story. But on cold, cold mornings like this I think of Mya, L.J., Muffie and Little Seneca and pray that they are warm and safe.
“Lord Jesus, keep your hand on the children of our world!”
He cares for the birds. He cares for the Squirrels, and I know He cares for us all.
Sometime in December, I received a package in the mail from National Arbor Day Foundation. In response to our yearly membership donation, they sent me two Hyacinth bulbs with instructions as to how to make them grow. I put the first one into the provided vase and put it into the pump room. I actually neglected it to the point that I thought it would never grow. But it did!
Today the flower is probably about at its peak, and the smell reminds me that Easter is coming. There is hope for this old world. That God, who has caused the seasons to follow each other for as long as the earth has stood, promised that the seasons would continue to do just that until the end of time. So Spring will come again, reminding us of the fact that Jesus conquered death and that we can have the same hope. I smell the faint smell of Hyacinth as I sit in my computer room, two rooms and a wall from where my brave little flower sits on the dining room table. It makes me just a little crazy with hope — not just for spring, but for the situations that I cannot change, and cannot effect and cannot reasonably expect a good outcome. “Lord Jesus, may the Hope of Heaven hold me steady in these days when the unknowns are so completely beyond my reach and understanding.”
This morning, I scrubbed off my jars of canned chicken, and cleaned up the dungeon where we store thing like that. We had such a time with those terrible crickets earlier this summer, so Certain Man had put a “cricket bomb” down there to lower the unpopular population. This resulted in rather impressive cricket carnage that lay upon the floor, resulting in less that usual cooperation when seeking help to either retrieve food from the old basement, or taking things down there to stock the shelves.
Which is what I needed this morning, because the canned chicken was ready to go to storage.
I did 28 quarts of meat, had a nice pan full of meat for “picking” and sold 20 pounds. It certainly is a satisfied feeling to have this meat in the dungeon, waiting on the shelf for when it is needed. I had one quart that did not seal, so I will use that for either chicken salad, or for a casserole for lunch tomorrow.
And so, this Saturday has passed. I can barely believe that it is after 5pm. I need to think about lunch tomorrow, and finish straightening some things before bedtime.
This has been such a happy day.
My heart gives grateful praise.