LORD's Day





"High King of heaven, my victory won,
May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heav'n's Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all."

Treasuring the Value of Our Freedoms


With the advancement of technology, we can know what is happening around the world as it occurs. This is a blessing and a curse.

I hear of fellow Christians persecuted and executed for their faith. It grieves my heart. I can let it depress me, or I can let it strengthen my faith. I pray for them, and I pray for our country. I pray that we will be strong in our devotion to the Lord.

I pray that we will treasure the value of our freedom of worship and speech. I pray that we will treasure the privilege of owning God's Word and being able to teach it without fear.

If our freedoms were taken from us  . . .

Would we suddenly wish we had attended church more faithfully?
Would we wish we had memorized more Scripture?
Would we wish we been bolder witnessing to our neighbors?

I was reminded of a story of a boy who regretted not paying attention to his lessons in school when he found out that his country had been taken over in war. Suddenly, he loved what he had lost.



"The Last Lesson" 
by Alphonse Daudet (1840-1897)


Are we using the gifts that God has given us? 
Are we treasuring the value of the freedom? 

Friday Fiction - Sparks of Imagination


SPARKS OF IMAGINATION

What beautiful evening! My husband and I lounge before a crackling campfire. The flames mesmerize me. I listen to the chirping crickets and gurgling stream. The night sounds put my mind into a creative mode. A log tumbles, and sparks dance upward into the night sky to join the stars. Ah! Personification! 

Sparks dance upward to the sky
They turn this way and that…


Hmmm… I need something to rhyme with “sky.” My mind flips through its internal vocabulary list. ...shy, by, die, try, sigh, why, fly…FLY!

Sparks dance upward to the sky;
They spin around and upward fly.


No, I already used “upward.” …skyward? heavenward? spaceward?...sigh…Maybe I need to go another way. 

Sparks dance upward to the sky;
Giggling, spinning—higher, higher!
Joining the stars in the dark sky…


I can do better than that. Couplets are too common. I’ll make an alternating rhyme pattern. What other word means “join?” ...mix, merge, mingle…

Sparks dance skyward—higher, higher!
Mingling with the starry host,
Giggling, spinning—specks of fire.
Jewels on the heav’nly coast.


That’s not too bad, but the lines don’t match in rhythm. 

I count out the syllables on my fingers.

Sparks-dance-sky-ward-high-er-high-er


I need eight syllables. Are they iambic or trochaic? I can’t remember which is which.

Sparks dance skyward—higher, higher,
Twirling with the starry million,
Giggling, spinning—specks of fire.
At the universe cotillion.


Ah! Now we’re getting somewhere. I need to describe the ballroom now.

Gliding across velvet indigo,


What rhymes with “indigo”… show, blow, grow, arpeggio?

To the trill of the cricket arpeggio.


No, that has too many syllables. 

Gliding o’er velvet indigo,
Waltzing to crickets’ arpeggio,


I like that! Now what else can I do? Maybe something about singing…

Evening birds sing a lullaby…


I’m back to the words that rhyme with “sky.” 

Evening birds sing a lullaby;
Soft breezes whisper a gentle sigh.


Now, alternate them. 

Gliding o’er velvet indigo,
Evening birds sing a lullaby;
Waltzing to crickets’ arpeggio,
Soft breezes whisper a gentle sigh.


ARGH! What a mess! I’ve got to rearrange those lines and fix them somehow.

Evening birds sing a lullaby,
Crickets chirping arpeggio,
Breezes whisper a gentle sigh,
Jewels waltzing on indigo.


Whew! That’s better. I really ought to write this down, but I’d have to find a pencil …and paper…which is in my bag…in the car. Let me go over what I’ve done so far. 

Sparks dance skyward—higher, higher,
Twirling with the starry million,
Giggling, spinning—specks of fire.
At the universe cotillion.

Evening birds sing a lullaby,
Crickets chirping arpeggio,
Breezes whisper a gentle sigh,
Jewels waltzing on indigo.


Hmmm…what else can I add? 

“Oh, look, Dear!” I nudge my husband. “There’s a full moon tonight.”

The glowing moon shines over all,
Ascends above dark silhouettes,
Majestic trees and waterfall…


Silhouettes is a great word, but it will be hard to find something to rhyme with it. 

I close my eyes and listen to the night sounds. 

It’s so peaceful. There’s a whippoorwill calling and an owl, too. It sounds like a duet. Hey! That rhymes with silhouette!

And owl and whippoorwill duets.


That stanza was easier. I’m getting pretty good at this! I really ought to write it down. If I say it over again and again, I’m sure I’ll remember it. 

Sparks dance skyward—higher, higher,
Twirling with the starry million,
Giggling, spinning—specks of fire.
At the universe cotillion.

Evening birds sing a lullaby,
Crickets chirping arpeggio,
Breezes whisper a gentle sigh,
Jewels waltzing on indigo.

The glowing moon shines over all
Ascends above dark silhouettes,
Majestic trees and waterfalls
And owl and whippoorwill duets.


How should I end my poem?

“Honey! You’re blanket is burning!” 

Jumping up, I throw the smoldering cloth on the ground. I stomp and thump and then GASP as icy water swooshes over me. I look at my husband standing before me with an empty pail. “What did you do that for?” 

He grins at my dripping hair and plastered shirt and shrugs. “The fire’s out.” 

I watch the last ember sputter and die at my feet. 

“What were you thinking about anyway? Your mind was a million miles away.”

Hmmm…what was I thinking about?

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