Life can be like a roller coaster, they say.
You climb on and sometimes the hills are high.
And at other times they are low, but any of them can
Twist and turn and make you feel oh so puny.
Boy it must have been a heck of a twist and turn that got me on yesterday’s ride. Not only did I eat something that tore my stomach up, but as a result I didn’t sleep worth a darn last night. So it has been one of those yucky, rough days, my friends. I hope to be better and back up to snuff tomorrow. Love, Natalie
The human spirit can endure in sickness, but a crushed spirit who can bear? ~Proverbs 18:14 ✝
And now November rains erode the nests
That mourning doves assembled in the gardens
From where their mild and wind-warm coos caressed
My ear, to quiet earth that cools and hardens
~Edward Alan Bartholomew
As I worked in the yard today, a mourning dove somewhere above my head sang her sad, sad tune in the dwindling hours of the late November day. Although I could hear her long before I could see her, eventually I spied her and her soft, pinkish underbelly on the high wire where she sat in an intermittent reverie between her sorrowful cries. Perplexed by her pleas I sat pondering the meaning of the doleful melodies. Why does she cry I wondered? Does she lament the closing of the day and the dark, moonless night that lies ahead? Have her children come and gone too soon? Where is her lover that he might console her? Is she hungry? Is she frightened? Surely she doesn’t lament the regrettable affairs of men. Then I noticed that the stone rabbit with the upright ears seemed to be pondering her despair as well. Again I mulled over what the cause of her woe might be. The weather and the garden, though not perfect this time of year, should be no cause for such sorrowful sounds. Other birds had for sure been chattering gleefully which made her cries and lamentations even more pitiful. Cooah, coo, coo, coo she’d called over and over again as the day wound down, and then suddenly just before all light was gone her melancholy voice vanished. And then it occurred to me that perhaps her haunting, soulful sounds were simply songs of praise for another day of living and it was time to rest her weary wings.
I said, “Oh, that I had the wings of a dove! I would fly away and be at rest.” ~Psalm 55:6 ✝
Wherever I have knocked,
a door has opened.
Wherever I have wandered,
a path has appeared.
Whatever be the depth of woe
Along the path that I must go,
I’ll sing my song—
My song of joy for all the love
That’s lavished on us from above,
And count no loss of treasure-trove
When things go wrong.
I’ll sing the sunlight, and the bright
Soft smiling stars that gem the night;
For gifts of good
That God hath spread along my way,
The lilt of birds in tuneful play,
The harvests full and flowers gay,
The whole day long
I’ll sing my song
~John Kendrick Bangs
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ~Philippians 4:10 ✝