Yesterday afternoon we watched the dark clouds gather, and this time they actually brought RAIN! We had a fabulous rip-roarin’ thunderstorm and it absolutely poured for hours. We desperately need it; there have been fires started by lightning strikes because everything is so parched. Now the ground, the trees, the weeds, look much happier with their big gulping drink of rain! My Russian Sage looks like it grew by leaps and bounds overnight.

I’ve been praying for rain. Thank you, Lord, for the wonderful abundance You sent.

From Psalm 62

My soul in silence waits for God,
My Saviour he has proved;
He only is my Rock and Tow’r;
I never shall be moved.

My honor is secure with God,
My Saviour he is known;
My Refuge and my Rock of strength
Are found in God alone.

On him, ye people, evermore
Rely with confidence;
Before him pour ye out your heart,
For God is our defense.

For God has spoken o’er and o’er,
And unto me has shown,
That saving pow’r and lasting strength
Belong to him alone.

Yea, lovingkindness evermore
Belongs to thee, O Lord;
And thou according to his work
Dost ev’ry man reward.

Trinity Hymnal, #571

We have two poor little big heifers that we’ve been grass-feeding since Spring. Now they’re getting grain added to their daily menu. Fattening ‘em up for the k……, as it were. The thought of it makes me sad, and I don’t know if I’ll actually be able to have them on my plate and dig in. I’ve avoided naming them, but today when I looked at them in the field, munching away on grass without a care in the world, the names Daisy and Maisy jumped into my mind. That’s dangerous. I’m bonding even though I’ve tried to steel myself against it. Yikes. September’s coming, and they don’t have a clue.

So then I went into the house, put my canning kettle on to boil, peeled peaches and made jam. I’m proud to say that I have 11 jars of jam on my counter, all glistening and sweet, plus one in the refrigerator that’s been dug into already. Strawberry, Peach and Rebecca’s Bumbleberry. I had never heard of that one before, but had to try it, and it’s fabulous! (Thanks, Rebecca!) I didn’t use rhubarb because I didn’t have any on hand, and I make it all at one shot, but the effect is the same. I used a combo of peaches, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries. Yum. Serious yum. Also, since my husband is diabetic, I made all the jam with lower sugar content using 1 cup of unsweetened white grape juice and only one or two cups of sugar, depending on the sweetness of the fruit. Way better than Smucker’s with Splenda, believe me.

Of course I picked the hottest day of the summer to make jam. Of course I did. But when the peaches are ripe, ya gotta make the jam.

I also finished sewing a shower curtain, valance and sink skirt I’m making for my sister who’s moving to another apartment in her building. The only bit left is adding the grommets to the shower curtain. I haven’t sewn anything for a while, and it was really fun to make them for her. I used two fabrics: a Waverly blue and white check and a floral stripe that includes the same colors plus a few more. Fun stuff. I wish I had more time for sewing.

It’s cooler now and I’m on the porch with my laptop while I write this. The sky is cloudy, but no rain in sight. We need lots of rain desperately. This is the third hottest, driest summer in Colorado since they’ve been recording such facts.

Time to close the laptop. Goodnight, all.

“There is probably no more beautiful quality in a Christian than meekness. It enhances manliness; it adorns femininity. It is a jewel polished by grace. But it is all to rare. Is that because so few of us know what it is to be poor in spirit and to mourn for our sins?

Poverty of spirit, mourning for sin, spiritual meekness—all these hallmarks of kingdom life can be imitated. We can counterfeit them. But just as a stone hurled into the air seems to defy the law of gravity, only to rise ever more slowly until it turns and plummets to the ground with increasing velocity, so it is with all cheap imitations of God’s grace. They “burn out” as they return to the atmosphere of this world. They cannot sustain themselves in a fallen world. Only the real thing will survive.”  ~Sinclair Ferguson, The Sermon on the Mount: Kingdom Life in a Fallen World

O for a thousand tongues to sing
My great Redeemer’s praise,
The glories of my God and King,
The triumphs of His grace!

My gracious Master and my God,
Assist me to proclaim,
To spread through all the earth abroad
The honors of Thy Name.

Jesus! The Name that charms our fears,
That bids our sorrows cease;
’Tis music in the sinner’s ears,
’Tis life, and health, and peace.

He breaks the power of canceled sin,
He sets the prisoner free;
His blood can make the foulest clean,
His blood availed for me.

He speaks, and, listening to His voice,
New life the dead receive,
The mournful, broken hearts rejoice,
The humble poor believe.

Hear Him, ye deaf; His praise, ye dumb,
Your loosened tongues employ;
Ye blind, behold your Savior come,
And leap, ye lame, for joy.

Glory to God and praise and love
Be now and ever given
By saints below and saints above
The Church in earth and heaven.

Charles Wesley, 1740

I keep trying to write something, but I’m having trouble taming the thoughts swirling in my head enough to get them into coherent sentences.

So much is happening that is difficult, but we really are upheld by the goodness of the Lord and knowing that He has ordained every circumstance. Each part of it has eternal purpose. Things aren’t out of control, even though it feels like they are at times. Make that most of the time. I’d like life to be tidy, manageable. At least that it feels endurable. It isn’t, and I’m thankful that God brings me beyond myself and shows me that His way leads to glory.

Something is different this time around. I’ve often experienced suffering as though God were saying “take your medicine; it’s good for you.” Does it make sense to say that this time I see God’s joy? That in the background of day-to-day events there’s an eternal symphony that plays and points to heaven and the everlasting glory of God? Oh, it’s definitely not easy, but by the grace of God we’re being given eyes to see beyond the moment and toward eternity. Like scales lifted from the eye. Thanks be to God.

When God and his glory are made our end, we shall find a silent likeness pass in upon us; the beauty of God will, by degrees, enter upon our soul.

~Stephen Charnock

The thorn is the most cursed and angry and crabbed weeds that the earth yields, and yet out of it springs the rose, one of the sweetest smelled flowers, and most delightful to the eye. ~Samuel Rutherford

Over the years I’ve learned how the thorn of affliction is usually the means God uses to make us into the image of His Son. Most recently, the thorn has stung my family in the form of cancer. I’ve just returned from a trip to see my brother who endured difficult surgery with faith and grace. It was beautiful to hear him voice his trust in the “wise and holy will” of God for his life. Both my parents had cancer, and now four of my six siblings have had it. Were it not for the hope we have it Christ, our hearts would fail us; but He is sure, His will is perfect, and His Word is true. We do know His upholding comfort and strength. May we respond with lives that are scented with the sweet aroma of our Savior.

Thank you so much for your prayers for my sister and brother, and for our family as a whole. God heard, and He answered, and we praise Him for His unfailing goodness to us.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His holy will abideth;
I will be still whate’er He doth;
And follow where He guideth;
He is my God; though dark my road,
He holds me that I shall not fall:
Wherefore to Him I leave it all.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He never will deceive me;
He leads me by the proper path:
I know He will not leave me.
I take, content, what He hath sent;
His hand can turn my griefs away,
And patiently I wait His day.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His loving thought attends me;
No poison can be in the cup
That my Physician sends me.
My God is true; each morn anew
I’ll trust His grace unending,
My life to Him commending.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He is my Friend and Father;
He suffers naught to do me harm,
Though many storms may gather,
Now I may know both joy and woe,
Some day I shall see clearly
That He hath loved me dearly.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Though now this cup, in drinking,
May bitter seem to my faint heart,
I take it, all unshrinking.
My God is true; each morn anew
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart,
And pain and sorrow shall depart.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Here shall my stand be taken;
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine,
Yet I am not forsaken.
My Father’s care is round me there;
He holds me that I shall not fall:
And so to Him I leave it all.

~Samuel Rodigast, 1676

God is the refuge of His saints,
When storms of sharp distress invade;
Ere we can offer our complaints,
Behold Him present with His aid.

Let mountains from their seats be hurled
Down to the deep, and buried there;
Convulsions shake the solid world:
Our faith shall never yield to fear.

Loud may the troubled ocean roar;
In sacred peace our souls abide;
While every nation, every shore,
Trembles, and dreads the swelling tide.

There is a stream, whose gentle flow
Supplies the city of our God,
Life, love, and joy, still guiding through,
And wat’ring our divine abode.

That sacred stream—Thy holy Word—
That all our raging fear controls;
Sweet peace Thy promises afford,
And give new strength to fainting souls.

~Isaac Watts

For the second time in recent weeks, “storms of sharp distress” have invaded our family, and now I also have a brother in the throes of an unexpected advanced cancer. I will be away for the next week or so visiting my brother and sister, and I covet your prayers for them, my brother’s family and our family as a whole. Thank you so much. While I’m away, this blog will be quiet.