~Distracted…

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“I want to know Thee better,”
The Christian said to his King.
“I promise I’ll start tomorrow,
I’ll begin the very first thing!”

Morning came with the sunrise,
And the Christian awoke in his bed.
“Three hundred and eight things to do…
I’ll begin tomorrow, LORD, instead!”

Tomorrow arrived in all swiftness,
And spotted the Christian asleep,
It was late in the morning when they
Opened their eyes for just a wee peep.

“I’m sick today, LORD, and tired,
I just can’t focus on knowing Thee.
Heal me quickly, so I can get up,
Talk to Thee, and Thy Word study.”

The illness passed like a mist,
Standing the Christian back on his feet.
“Ah! ‘tis so good to feel alive again!
Good health in the body is so sweet!

I want to spend more time with Thee,
Getting to know Thee better, LORD,
But first, I must catch up on my work,
Before time on Thy Word is poured.”

So, it went on, day after day,
The Christian was so busy, indeed!
There was always so much work to do,
There was always some new need.

Day and night, they passed away,
Until one dark, stormy night,
The aged Christian himself passed away,
Never knowing HIM as he might.

“LORD, I was always just so busy!”
The Christian’s last excuse did plea.
But tell me, oh, hectic Christian,
What greater occupation could there be?

To the KING be all the glory!

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What’s in a Title – Journeys of Four

Front Cover - 4 - Journeys of FourJourneys of Four.

I think it’s a good title, but what does it mean? Where did it come from?

Everyone knows what a journey is. It’s a trip, a time of movement, an adventure. Bilbo Baggins went on a journey with the dwarves, Nicholas Nickleby went on a journey to earn his fortune (not that it worked,) even Paul the Apostle went on (many) journeys to spread the gospel. Perhaps, most of the time then, the word refers to an actual physical trip, from one place to another.

Other times, however, it can refer to something far less physical; it can refer to journeys of a mental, character, and/or spiritual nature. Our growth towards the things of the LORD or our death in the opposite direction.

We all experience this type of journey in one way and one direction or another. We tread the pathways of our spiritual lives, sometimes with steps slow and halting, as we strain to put one foot in front of the other. Sometimes, leaping and swift, singing at the top of our lungs. Or anywhere in-between.

This is the type of journey that my title refers to. Journeys of life.

As for the second half of the title, it refers to the four main characters whose journeys are chronicled. Four characters, so different in many ways, but all on similar journeys. The shy and miserable Christine, the bitter and loudmouthed Claudette, the indifferent and sullen Claudius, and the angry and escapist Peter.

Each, through their different paths, come face to face with the revelation of true Christianity – and when they do, they either face repentance, receiving redemption, or they turn their backs, rejecting Christ altogether. This is their story. The Journeys of Four.

To the KING be all the glory!

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~Wednesday’s Bookshelf

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I have been trying to read a little more lately. One might never guess how little time a writer might find to sit and read. That, however, can be a different post.

I have commenced an attempt to finish up the list of books that I’ve started in the last nine months to a year, than put aside. More from getting busy with life and other things, and consequently more than half-forgetting about the books, than anything else. In this endeavor, I have so far succeeded three times in the last week.

First, I finished Elisabeth Elliot’s Loneliness. A very good book, that our pastor’s wife suggested to me. I confess that I was tempted to hate it a bit in the beginning, but it was a very convicting, yet almost comforting book to read.

Second, I finished E. B. White’s Stuart Little. I know many people love this book, but I am afraid I just couldn’t discover why. The story felt random, and lacking in a real and satisfying ending, beside being a bit creepy in that a mouse was born to a human. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what happened. Stuart too, had an attitude that I didn’t care much for either. One of those, I’ve got more sense and am better than pretty much any other creature on the planet, type of attitudes, or so it seemed to me. Overall, I was disappointed, for once rating the movie, with all its silliness and issues, rather higher than the book.

Third was C.S. Lewis’ The Horse and His Boy. Probably my least favorite of the Narnia books I have read thus far, but still a fun read. Besides, there’s just something about being in a wood of talking animals that just excites my imagination. Possibly, because I’ve imagined that animals could talk, ever since I could remember.

Currently? I’m working to finish L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables, and I’ve still got a ways to go…

To the KING be all the glory!

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~Café Chocolaté – First Installment

I sat on the edge of the swarming parking lot, my eyes trained on the doors of a small coffee shop. Crimson curtains hung from the arched windows, held back by ribbons the color of sunshine. Round wooden tables were surrounded by wrought iron chairs, both indoors and out, rust precariously clinging to the delicate decorations. A painted sign reading, Café Chocolaté, had long since commenced to peel away from the rectangular window above the cherry wood door.

A steady stream of people ebbed in and through that door. Old men, young men, middle aged women and every age in-between in each gender. Except children. One rarely saw a child enter Café Chocolaté. I waited, fiddling with my scarf, sorting the crowd out in my head. The sun rose higher, cresting the roofs of the nearby businesses and shops. I squinted, then shut my eyes for a brief moment.

When I opened them again, I saw a woman, her hair white and topped by a flower bedecked hat, shuffle through the tide. A coffee in one hand and her purse slung over one shoulder, she took the step with care.

With one foot on the sidewalk and the other still on the step, she had only started to move, when a youngster of seventeen or thereabouts rushed past her, taking her balance with him. Coffee, hat, and hair all met the pavement, while the youngster didn’t even bother to look back.

I bit my lip, waiting to see the outcome, my fists clenched at my sides. The woman struggled to stand, but hadn’t the strength to pull her own body into an upright position. People continued to mill past, paying little or no heed to the afflicted woman.

Then a man, his gray suit pressed to perfection, his dark hair brushed neatly, and his shoes polished to perfection, joined the throng near the door, everything about his appearance shouting his importance. With one glance at the crumpled figure by the step, his briefcase met the pavement and he reached to help the woman to her feet. Assisting her to a rusted chair, even I could hear him ask if she needed medical attention.

She shook her head, smiling her thanks when he rescued her hat, and assured him once more that she was perfectly all right now, while pulling an old-fashioned handkerchief and a small hand-mirror out of her purse, and beginning to clean the dirt off of her face.

The man disappeared inside the café and I waited.

Within five minutes, he returned bearing two coffees. One, he gave to the old woman, once more asking if she were all right. Reassured by her vigorous nod and cheerful smile, the man picked up his briefcase, gave a slight bow, and started off.

I threw my scarf over my shoulder and rose to my feet. I had identified my first mission…

To the KING be all the glory!

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Quotable Monday – Journeys of Four

 

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Filed under At the Printing Press