Easter Celebration

No celebratory holiday is anticipated like Easter when we celebrate the death, burial and resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

"How much more shall the blood of Christ, 

who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God,

purge your conscience form dead works to serve the living God?

And for this cause he is the mediator of the new testament, that by means of death,

             for the redemption of the transgressions that were under the first testament,

they which are called might receive the promise of eternal inheritance. "

                                                                                                           Hebrews 9: 14-15

the power of the cross

 It was a glorious, bright morning, and I looked up.

This is what my eyes beheld. The reflection of the grids from the side windows created the most palpable crosses which drew me to silence and meditation.

 Jesus entered Jerusalem intentionally, fully aware of what awaited him there, the betrayal, the revilement, the horrendous physical torture, and the ultimate forsaking of the Father. It was the way He willingly chose, the way of obedience and suffering, the way to the cross.

And only through the cross of Jesus is there resurrection, and life, and victory.

"And you, who were dead in your trespasses...
God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses,
 by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands.
 This he set aside, nailing it to the cross."
  Colossians 2:13

living with the ghost of Putter

There are several kernels of popcorn laying on my den's floor, the room in which we watch movies and eat popcorn. That popcorn would have been snatched up and never for even a minute had a chance if Mr. Putter was  around.

I never expected to miss him so much. Sometimes I hear him in my mind coming down the stairs, his nails tapping on the hardwood floor. It's sad. Some things I will never miss about Mr. Putter, but those things that I do miss hurt deeply at times. But most of all I hurt for my daughter, who had a magnanimous love for him.

His memory lives on.

daybook

Outside my window... sleet falling, making me feel as if I am in a pinball machine

I am thinking...about the Amazon order of Lenten books I placed recently, waiting

I am thankful...we were able to bundle up and take a walk outside earlier

I am baking...wheat bread, the smell of freshly baked bread is wonderfully delicious!

I am learning...the spiritual as well as physical disciplines of fasting

In the kitchen...lentil soup, served with a sprinkle of rosemary salt and a dash of balsamic vinegar

I am creating...a scrapbook of Rose's life, almost eighteen years of living memories

I am reading...Bread and Wine (Readings for Lent and Easter), and A Different Sun by Elaine Neil Orr

I am hoping...to be able to sow my lettuce seeds soon

I am crocheting...an afghan in sherbet colors for Charlotte's bed

I am embroidering...a tea cozy, involving some appliqueing...fun!

Around the house...a lick and a promise, and the refrigerator needs cleaning

This afternoon...a pot of tea, reading a Sower series book of Issac Newton's life, and a game of Guess Who.

Quote:
"It is in the laboratory of life that our initial consecration to Christ is tested, proven, and demonstrated in daily, moment-by-moment choices and responses, as we surrender to the sovereignty and will of God."

~Nancy Leigh DeMoss

Surrender

I have seen this idea of a daybook for several years, today seemed like a good day to post in like manner. 

he is home!

We are all safely gathered in now.

 We left early with a backdrop of midnight blue skies surrounded by huge transfer trucks traveling the icy roads with us as we headed to the airport.

                                                                       April 2013
He left on a warm day in late April. I still remember the tug in my heart as I watched him walk down the airport stairs to embark upon a journey that would take him thousands of miles away for many months.

                                                                      March 2014

His only request was that we not feed him rice for a while.

more birds and a poem

A winter poem echoing simplicity, since winter desires to linger and hold on tight.

                                              Bread and milk for Breakfast,
                                              A woolen frock to wear,
                                              And a crumb for robin redbreast
                                              on the cold days of the year.

~Christina G. Rossetti

The faithful and stout robin redbreast is the bird in our area that reappears in late January to remind us spring is just around the corner. Charlotte looked outside this afternoon and exclaimed,

"Oh, my goodness, look at all the robins!" Our yard was dotted with about one-half dozen or more. So even though spring might seem very distant with today's cold, it is on its way.

feathered friends

 Right outside my doorway are friends, of the feathered kind. They show up punctually every morning, and feed throughout the day, never letting me down with their sterling essence. Remaining faithful to making sure the feeders are adequately stocked is my part, the birds' part is to be just what they are...feathered friends spilling pleasure.

A little hard-backed journal book to record, binoculars to closely observe, a Peterson's Field guide to identify, and colored pencils to draw our friends in detail.

And yes, there is plenty of competition with the squirrels too, there is probably no reason necessary to convince anyone that they get their share of the birdseed.

inglenook

I like the word inglenook, especially with lower case letters.

 There it sits all smug, and inviting you to come gather around the fireside to sip a cup of English Breakfast tea alongside a slice of homemade wheat bread slathered in butter.

Laura came yesterday and taught Rose and me the essentials of wheat loaf bread making. I ordered the extra ingredients from  the Urban Homemaker, and at the present rate we are eating this bread, next week I can solo on my own bread making endeavors.

a heart discovery

 We stopped by the snowy woods this morning, and Rose marveled at a heart discovery.

Happy Valentines Day!

a much commented- on cap

Isn't it a treat to knit up something and have people comment on how much they like it? Such was the case with this little Goblin Cap I knitted up this past week. Charlotte chose the colors of Galway wool, and the button was plucked from my grandmother's stash of old buttons.

Then Rose took her outside in the twirling snow where it was cold to take a picture.

Since Rose will be going to Haiti in late April, we are both reading Kisses from Katie.

"I have absolutely no desire to write a book about myself. 

This is a book about Christ."

~Katie Davis

When we surrender our lives to Christ it becomes more about Him and less about us. This book is about a young woman serving Christ unconditionally, absolutely, and daily in Uganda. The last time I can remember feeling similar emotions upon reading a true story of a person's remarkable life was The Shadow of the Almighty: Life and Testament of Jim Elliot by Elisabeth Elliot.

Joining Ginny this Wednesday, as I post my second post of the day. Joyously reporting the snow is coming down, just as "they" said it would!

huddling down

"They" say it is coming. "They" say we can count on it being the perfect storm, snow storm, that is, for our southern area. We are waiting, joyously we are waiting!

We have not a care in the world...