"When every other voice is hushed, and in quietness we wait before Him, the silence of the soul makes more distinct the voice of God. He bids us, 'Be still, and know that I am God.' Psalm 46:10. This is effectual preparation for all labor for God. Amidst the hurrying throng, and the strain of life's intense activities, she who is thus refreshed, will be surrounded with an atmosphere of light and peace. She will receive a new endowment of both physical and mental strenth. Her life will breathe out a fragrance, and will reveal a divine power that will reach many hearts." Adapted from Ministry of Healing pg. 58.
This is the phrase that ran through my mind while paddling the canoe across the lake in the moonlit evening yesterday.
My soul has been refreshed by our weekend at the cabin.
Climbing a mountain, canoeing across quiet water not once but four times in less than three days, maneuvering alongside a beaver, watching a moose, listening to the morning song of birds, looking into the beauty and grandeur of the mountains, staring into the embers of a fire, I am still. I claim His promises. I see His faithfulness.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
September and Pear Orchards
Leaves are rustling. Crickets humming. It's September. One of my favorite times of year.
I'm not quite sure why.
It's the last of the warm days...the beginning of cool breezes and crisp mornings.
It's the culmination of summer harvest...apples and pears ripening.
I love red bins dispersed among through the orchards, bin-liners flapping in the breeze, the hum of tractors, a pear for breakfast.
My family isn't in the business. We do small-scale tomato farming at best. But the orchards are in away a very real part of life. They're the indicators of the season - apart of our valley's identity.
More than this, they are reminders to me even when life gets crazy of peace that my God gives.
From my perch above these blanketing orchards, I sing, "This is my story this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long."
I'm not quite sure why.
It's the last of the warm days...the beginning of cool breezes and crisp mornings.
It's the culmination of summer harvest...apples and pears ripening.
I love red bins dispersed among through the orchards, bin-liners flapping in the breeze, the hum of tractors, a pear for breakfast.
My family isn't in the business. We do small-scale tomato farming at best. But the orchards are in away a very real part of life. They're the indicators of the season - apart of our valley's identity.
More than this, they are reminders to me even when life gets crazy of peace that my God gives.
From my perch above these blanketing orchards, I sing, "This is my story this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long."
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