30 January 2008

Growing Wilder Every Hour!

"I'm a little prairie flower,
Growing wilder every hour.
Nobody cares to cultivate me,
I'm as wild as I can be!
Ha-ha! I'm wild!"

This song was on one of my childhood records. I re-discovered it a year or two ago, and have loved it and sung it ever since. Thanks to Elizabeth Joy at Wildflower Morning for the chance to share it!

28 January 2008

Small Friend

Nearly every day since this little one was born, I have passed by and said hello to him. Sometimes he wanders over to visit me at the fence's edge. In summer, the field across the road had a wealth of alfalfa flowers for him to eat from my hand (unless, of course, his parents came and stole them away first--ornery creatures). Now the ground is frozen or snowy, and all I have to offer is a scratch on the nose and a cheery greeting.

In the more than six months since he arrived on the scene, I have struggled to find a name for him. Now that I know him better, Maxmilian Arthur fits the bill. Of course, the right to name him belongs to someone else entirely, but I shall pretend the right is mine, and that he quivers with delight inside at the very thought of owning so grand a name. It'll be our own little secret, and I'll wink at him next time I call his name.

I think my Creator smiles and winks at me, too, when He thinks of the new name He'll give me when perfection comes back to our little world.

24 January 2008

The Happy Wonder

Every so often, a man stops by my office to play the harmonica. Today, the selections included "The Happy Wonder", which reminded me what a happy wonder it is to live in a small town where someone could not only do that for my office, but also for the court house. (The court house has splendid accoustics, you see.) I always stop what I'm doing to listen.

His harmonica is small, and could therefore seem insignificant. However, he fills the space with significance whenever he plays. He chooses to be a positive, solid thing in the world around him, and his atmosphere brings with it a definite cheer.

It's rather cold outside today, and my harmonica man walks two miles to get here. I told him he could stay in the warmth as long as he wished before heading home.

"I might just take a nap," he said. And, he did.

Heavenly Music

"The humblest worker moved by the Holy Spirit, will touch invisible chords whose vibrations will ring to the ends of the earth and make melody through eternal ages."
The Desire of Ages, p. 822

22 January 2008

Blocks of Color

There are not many spots in my office available for adding color and cheer, so I take what I can get. Since my computer screen was too low on the desk for a comfortable head position, I propped it up with children's blocks. Not only do their varied hues make me smile, but they also remind me of an important truth: the more the blocks, the more support, and in that way, blocks are like friends. Each one different, but each one adding a necessary element to my daily delights.

21 January 2008

Jacob's Ladder

One of the best things about playing hymns at church every week is that sometimes new skills emerge. I always wanted to be able to sing while I played, but could not manage the multi-task talent until just recently.

At evening after a small journey, I sat alone at the piano, singing and playing many of my favorites. I came upon a new one, whose melody (known as Jacob's Ladder, but not the commonly sung one) and bass line beautifully illustrated its text. I could relate to Jacob's weariness, both physically and spiritually, and joined his refreshment when the song reminded me how close our Savior is in each of our moments.

As Jacob with travel was weary one day,
At night on a stone for a pillow he lay;
He saw in a vision a ladder so high
That its foot was on earth and its top in the sky.

Alleluia to Jesus who died on the tree,
And has raised up a ladder of mercy for me,
And has raised up a ladder of mercy for me.

Come let us ascend! all may climb it who will;
For the angels of Jacob are guarding it still:
And remember each step that by faith we pass o'er
Some prophet or martyr has trod it before.


And when we arrive at the haven of rest
We shall hear the glad words, "Come up hither, ye blest,
Here are regions of light here are mansions of bliss."
O who would not climb such a ladder as this?