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Today our local church body grieves with one of our dear families as they taste sudden and deep sorrow. Tonight, I count God's mercies as a discipline... looking for His fingerprint, remembering that He is righteous and loving in all His ways, reminding myself that His mercies are new every morning. Oh, that He will give us eyes to see His mercy in tribulation and then lips to sing His praise.
395. The color green {my favorite}.
396. Gusty, whistling wind.
397. Her wake-up, morning curls.
398. Quiet house, washing machine whirring.
399. Boys playing outside all day.
400. Boys smelling of fresh air.
401. A husband of integrity.
402. Our spontaneous afternoon zoo outing.
403. A beautiful afternoon for visiting the zoo.
404. Quiet waiting.
405. A whisper of hope.
406. One perfect white camellia.
407. Listening to one son apologize to the other.
408. A walk in the woods.
409. She sipped milk from a cup.
410. Sweet spring fragrance in the air.
411. Her head on my shoulder.
412. Chilly mornings, warm afternoons.
Thy bountiful care, what tongue can recite?
It breathes in the air, it shines in the light;
it streams from the hills, it descends to the plain,
and sweetly distills in the dew and the rain.
Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,
in Thee do we trust, nor find Thee to fail;
Thy mercies how tender, how firm to the end,
our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend.
from O Worship the King by Robert Grant, 1833
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