Four-year old Ivy and I stepped out onto a sunny street, plastic bags in hand to collect all the unnoticed treasures of a small-town neighborhood in the early spring. It was 72 degrees, and we ventured without jackets, without the itchy and sometimes cumbersome articles of clothing that winter forces on us. Just lightweight long-sleeves, jeans, and tennis shoes that were anxious to move.
“And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being covered with the waves; but Jesus Himself was asleep.”
Sometimes I get homesick for my mother in the kitchen on summer mornings, drinking her coffee and making muffins in her bathrobe. I remember the sights and sounds of those lazy mornings when I was a kid: the oven door opening and closing, the muffled chatter of talk shows on the television, that particularly peaceful way that light streams into your bedroom on a morning when you’re a kid who has no place to be.
“So teach us to number our days, That we may present to You
“So there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God.”
213 E. Main St.
PO Box 577
Olney, Texas 76374
Phone: (940) 564-5558
Fax: (940) 564-3992