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Showing posts from April, 2012

Overheard On A Saltmarsh

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  Nymph, nymph, what are your beads? Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them? Give them me. No. Give them me. Give them me. No. Then I will howl all night in the reeds, Lie in the mud and howl for them. Goblin, why do you love them so? They are better than stars or water, Better than voices of winds that sing, Better than any man's fair daughter, Your green glass beads on a silver ring. Hush, I stole them out of the moon. Give me your beads, I want them. No. I will howl in the deep lagoon For your green glass beads, I love them so. Give them me. Give them. No. - Harold Monro (1879 - 1932)

Not-So-Randoms

“How can it be that mathematics, being after all a product of human thought which is independent of experience, is so admirably appropriate to the objects of reality?” — Albert Einstein

Where's This Blogger Been?

So much has been happening that I’ve not had time to write. That’s the bottom line.  Sad, but true. Inexcusable? Probably . . . For the past few months, the Lord has been taking our family on an exciting journey of life (in general) and ministry. I have personally been enjoying a return to the music ministry and the family is along for the ride as well! The only difference for me is that in the past I’ve had instrumentalists and choirs.   I’ve never been the principle instrumentalist, until now.   A few months ago I was praying that the Lord would draw our family even closer together (everyone’s interests had us going so many different directions)—to my great surprise, music brought us back together again! I play guitar, our oldest son plays Bass, all the girls sing (including our son’s long-time girlfriend—who is practically our daughter, anyway). Both our oldest daughter’s boyfriend and our second-daughter’s husband play percussion. Our youngest son is still exploring (gra