rag rug

                                                                                                                                                                 My Life is but a weaving

between my Lord and me;

I cannot choose the colors

He worketh steadily.

Oft times He weaveth sorrow

And I, in foolish pride,

Forget He sees the upper,

And I the under side.

Not til the loom is silent

And the shuttles cease to fly,

Shall God unroll the canvas

And explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful

In the Weaver's skillful hand,

As the threads of gold and silver

In the pattern He has planned.

He knows, He loves, He cares,

Nothing this truth can dim.

He gives His very best to those

Who leave the choice with Him.

Modesty

Don't dress to kill,

Don't dress to thrill,

Dress to be in God's Will.

~Chris Brady

Christmas in July???

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Christmas in July???

One of the most important things for me on my 'to do' list in July is to sit down and make up a Christmas list of  each person receiving cards or gifts from us. Then during the months of July,August,Sept, and Oct the gifts are selected, purchased and IMMEDIATELY wrapped! These gifts are often gotten at sales, on ebay, amazon, etc and are not always new! The cards are gathered up and paper clipped to the gift for future use. I like to have all my gift shopping (and wrapping) finished by the end of Oct/beginning of Nov! It makes for a very relaxed Christmas Season during which the real reason for the season can be focused on! Oh,we don't always hit the goal completely but it sure helps to have a goal there anyway! (=

God bless your month!

Quilt of Life

Our life here on earth is much the same

As a beautiful quilt on display

The pattern is there, we are given the cloth

To form the blocks each day.

As children, we choose the reds and the golds,

The pinks, the blues and the greens.

We have never yet seen the drabness that comes

With the shattering gray of our dreams.

We form the blocks haphazardly

With no thought of hues or design.

It is only when it is half finished

Do we notice the passing of time.

It is then we can see the red and the gold

More beautiful with patches of gray.

Just like the darkest nights of our lives

Are made bright by the breaking of day.

As the quilt stretches out in my twilight years

And I add a few stitches each day.

I can see the touch of the Master’s Hand

As I look at those patches of gray.

Life wasn’t meant to be an array

Of bright colored pinks and blue.

He knew there would be patches of gray

When He gave the pattern to you. 

Fern Estes