Sunday was rather a quiet day at our
house, 123 Sandpebble in The Woodlands, Texas. We worshiped in the morning and
came home with this prayer from the final hymn ringing in our ears:
But the morning came, and the quiet is shattered with traffic noise, and all the noises the work day brings. I-45 is filled with rush hour ‘going to work’ traffic, school buses are making their ponderous rounds, collecting groups of scholars here and there.
And the busy workweek begins. The Woodlands roads are being enlarged, bridges enlarged, lanes added to existing roads. Exxon is building its world headquarters just south of us, and a new village is being started for the workers, and local traffic is heavy constantly. And I think back to Father Brown in his country village. Was that a better time, or not.
The truth is we – you and I – are living here, and our God has richly blessed us with the tools to do so successfully. This hymn comes to mind.
“Grant, Lord that we who worshiped here,
May all at last in heaven appear”
LSB 923,2b
Then a small lunch and a nap – and I do admit that
I take a nap now and then, for I noticed that things go right along while I am
dozing, so why not?
After
that, did some reading in the Scriptures, and then other stuff, casual stuff. Swept the Sunday papers together and fixed a bit of supper. Decided to watch TV
while eating, and happened on a Father Brown mystery. G J Chesterton wrote
those a generation or two ago about this country priest who bumbles and stumbles
his way to solutions, either of a
murder, or a theft, or some other stuff going on the village. Then he gets on his
black bicycle and wends his way through a path into the dim distance.
It was just a quiet, ‘laid back day’, quiet and peaceful and we felt that peace filling us with calm repose. I think we have reached the point where we’ve stopped lying about our age and are bragging on it. There is one thing people do not tell you about age. That is it is comfortable.
It was just a quiet, ‘laid back day’, quiet and peaceful and we felt that peace filling us with calm repose. I think we have reached the point where we’ve stopped lying about our age and are bragging on it. There is one thing people do not tell you about age. That is it is comfortable.
But the morning came, and the quiet is shattered with traffic noise, and all the noises the work day brings. I-45 is filled with rush hour ‘going to work’ traffic, school buses are making their ponderous rounds, collecting groups of scholars here and there.
And the busy workweek begins. The Woodlands roads are being enlarged, bridges enlarged, lanes added to existing roads. Exxon is building its world headquarters just south of us, and a new village is being started for the workers, and local traffic is heavy constantly. And I think back to Father Brown in his country village. Was that a better time, or not.
The truth is we – you and I – are living here, and our God has richly blessed us with the tools to do so successfully. This hymn comes to mind.
Leave all things to God’s direction
He loves me both in joy and woe.
His will is good, sure His affection
His tender love is good, I know,
He loves me both in joy and woe.
His will is good, sure His affection
His tender love is good, I know,
My fortress and my Rock is He,
What pleases God, that pleases me.”
LS 719,1
GPD 2/26/14
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