On a night like this I could wish for wisdom,
To sit outside my kitchen door
In the long twilight hours, draining my glass
And offering my companions more.
What could be better. . . ?
The breeze in our light summer clothing
And blowing the pages of our open Bibles,
Speaking of this world that comes from nothing.

–Peter Marshall

If of thy mortal goods thou art bereft,
And of thy larder’s store two loaves alone are left
Sell one, and with the dole
Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.

Our dog, Libby, came to live with us when she was a year old. We weren’t quite sure what we were getting, but the fact that she had been potty trained was very appealing as that seemed a rather daunting task to be added to our responsibilities. She actually became a part of our family rather seamlessly, like she had always been there. Occasionally I attempt to have a heart-to-heart talk with her, asking if she’s happy with us; if she’s glad she’s with us rather than with her family back at the kennel. She just looks at me like I’m stupid and presents me with her hind quarters to be scratched.

What I notice about Libby is this. From the moment she became ours, she knows my husband to be her master. She is absolutely attentive to his every move, every word. Each morning, at his slightest move to rise out of bed, she immediately is by his side. As he moves through the morning routine, she waits, watching. She responds to his movements and guages her own by his. She knows her needs will be met. They routinely exit the same door to go outside, but if he goes in another direction, she follows him without question. She trusts him implicitly. As he goes to the loft where he has his morning devotions, I watch her earnest brown eyes follow him up the stairs. She listens until she hears the familiar sound of the leather of his chair signify that he is actually sitting, then she runs up to sit at his feet.

I love watching all that because I see something in it to be learned. My Master is perfectly trustworthy. Are my eyes earnest toward Him? Am I attentive to His movements and guage my own to His? Do I balk when He goes through a different door than what I expect? Do I trust Him to provide all I need in His way? Am I eager to sit at His feet at every opportunity?

I am certain that this will continue to be one of my favorite pictures of our home.

Some of the icicles that had been hanging from the roof were already melting, but you can still see the ones that remain. Our dog, Libby, loves it when they break off–she eats them.

You can click the picture for a larger view.

Sure hope we have snow at Christmas!

We had a gorgeous snowstorm yesterday here on the Palmer Divide of Colorado. We live at an altitude of 7,500 ft. above sea level, a little over half as high as Pike’s Peak. The snow fell wet and heavy, perfect for snowballs and snowmen. By noon it was knee deep, blowing and drifting even higher. Of course we were snowed in, but thankfully had no loss of power.

We have 13 guests at our counseling retreat lodge who were delighted with the snow and the breath-taking beauty of the winter wonderland around them, especially those from southern and western states who scarcely see a flake of snow, if ever. My husband took some pictures early this morning and I hope to have them posted tomorrow if they’re not too dark. We have an early start to our day, so it was still kind of dark.

I never tire of the beauty of God’s creation around us. The mountains, pine trees, sky, clouds, animals (with the exception of the vilest of rodents, the mouse. I despise mice!), and spectacular sunrises and sunsets. I love watching the movement of the weather; listening to the wind in the trees. When it gusts, it sounds like the ocean. Just wonderful. Having such a lovely snowstorm is like icing on the cake.

It’s a very crisp 36 degrees this morning in our neck of the woods in Colorado. As the sun came up, its light reflected through the pine trees around our home, casting a gorgeous golden glow all through them as far as I could see to the west. Some of the needles on the trees have turned brown and will soon drop to the ground, adding to the thick cushion of pine needles already there. The sun shining through the brown and green needled trees was breathtaking.

“But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day” Proverbs 4:18.