Wordless Wednesday: Spring into Spring!

Do Not Adjust Your Set

This blog is experiencing time management, life organization, and writing focus challenges.

Do not attempt to adjust your computer.

We are working on the problem and hope to return you to your regularly scheduled musing and ramblings and photographic delights soon.

But we make no promises, unless you can find a way to get me an extra Saturday per week. I feel like I could really use one. But my friend has declared October a do-over month, so maybe that will do the trick!

Wordless Wednesday: Whine

Lists and Links

• The great hand pin removal (see below) – still feelin’ good.
• Dumped a bunch of money into our truck – didn’t feel so good.
• Truck, water heater, car, and dryer all required some sort of repair in a 10-day span. What property of the universe causes this phenomenon?
• Maybe this is Why I’ll Never Be an Adult. (At work we editors especially like this post, Alot.)
• All the unemployed fresh seminary graduates are getting edgy and freaking out at the prospect of being both unemployed and homeless in a couple weeks. Churches, get your decisions on! Or don’t, so we can keep them. . . . It stinks, I tell ya. Why did we ever make friends with seniors?
• We went camping last week. It was our first time in years and AJ’s first time. She loved it–hot dogs, sleeping in the tent, the beach, hanging out with our friends who live up north, and her first movie at a theater, one of my favorite places, the Cherry Bowl Drive-In!
• We did not go see any fireworks because we didn’t realize they were on the 3rd rather than the 4th. I’d forgotten that the freedom of religion shalt not be celebrated on the majority religion’s Sabbath. (My brother: “Did George Washington die that you may sin all the more?! No!”)
• The trailer for the next film in the Chronic(what?)cles of Narnia series is out: Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
• Warren Buffet shows us how to fit a camel through the eye of a needle: “My Philanthropic Pledge.”

Going…

We’re going to Oregon.

I guess I should pack. Yikes!

Smallport, here we come!

Up and Back Again

Aaron survived midterms, although he’s not so sure his GPA did. To put it out of mind we drove up north to Traverse City for night while AJ spent time on the farm with Grandma and Papa. Recent excitement there has been the cat bringing a live mouse into the living room and a herd of deer standing in the field, to which AJ exclaimed “Holy COW!”

We didn’t really do much up north that we couldn’t have done in GR (except maybe buy me dress boots for $26, woot!), but it was nice to get away to someplace else. We had uninterrupted talks and daydreams in the car, dinner out, a little jacuzzi time, and of course a couple episodes of LOST. And that equals relaxation, found.

Jeff

Baker Publishing Group mourns the loss of a colleague and friend, Jeffery A. Wittung. Jeff, one of Baker’s academic editors, was injured in a car accident on his way to work January 6, 2010. He passed away the evening of January 10. He leaves behind a wife, Marne, and two daughters: Ana (5) and Kate (1).

We at Baker Publishing Group will miss Jeff greatly, and we invite you to pray for the family Jeff leaves behind: his wife and daughters; his mother, father, and sister; his in-laws; and the extended family. They find comfort in Jeff’s faith and in their own, but their loss is severe.

Wordless Wednesday

Be Born, and Save Us Now

A Christmas Carol For 1862,
The Year Of The Trouble In Lancashire
George MacDonald

The skies are pale, the trees are stiff,
The earth is dull and old;
The frost is glittering as if
The very sun were cold.
And hunger fell is joined with frost,
To make men thin and wan:
Come, babe, from heaven, or we are lost;
Be born, O child of man.

The children cry, the women shake,
The strong men stare about;
They sleep when they should be awake,
They wake ere night is out.
For they have lost their heritage—
No sweat is on their brow:
Come, babe, and bring them work and wage;
Be born, and save us now.

Across the sea, beyond our sight,
Roars on the fierce debate;
The men go down in bloody fight,
The women weep and hate;
And in the right be which that may,
Surely the strife is long!
Come, son of man, thy righteous way,
And right will have no wrong.

Good men speak lies against thine own—
Tongue quick, and hearing slow;
They will not let thee walk alone,
And think to serve thee so:
If they the children’s freedom saw
In thee, the children’s king,
They would be still with holy awe,
Or only speak to sing.

Some neither lie nor starve nor fight,
Nor yet the poor deny;
But in their hearts all is not right,—
They often sit and sigh.
We need thee every day and hour,
In sunshine and in snow:
Child-king, we pray with all our power—
Be born, and save us so.

We are but men and women, Lord;
Thou art a gracious child!
O fill our hearts, and heap our board,
Pray thee—the winter’s wild!
The sky is sad, the trees are bare,
Hunger and hate about:
Come, child, and ill deeds and ill fare
Will soon be driven out.

Wordless Wednesday: Thanks-Full

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