Archive | May 2013

sunshine

wsweet

Sunshine is sweet; it is good to see the light of day.
Ecclesiastes 11: 7
Photo by Cheryl Cook

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dust

wdust

Just as a father has compassion on his children,
So the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him.
For He Himself knows our frame:
He is mindful that we are but dust.
As for man, his days are like grass:
As a flower of the field, so he flourishes,

When the wind has passed over it, it is no more,
And its place acknowledges it no longer.

Psalm 103: 13-16
Photo by Elizabeth Pike

milk pie and memories

MilkPie.Memories

Recently I was blessed to celebrate another year of life on God’s green Earth. I was further blessed by the gifts, cards, and many electronic remembrances of family and friends. One of the gifts I received brought a flood of memories to mind. My sister delivered a fresh from the oven example of what in my family we call a milk pie.
Milk pie has a lot of good memories associated with it for me. Both my grandmothers made it when I was a child and I always liked to help them. It’s quite simple really. After they’d completed the other pies they were making, they would take the trimmed bits of pie dough and ball them up for me to roll out. There always seemed to be enough for one last bottom crust in a small pie pan. Into this would go some sugar, some cinnamon, a bit of flour, and some milk which was stirred with a finger – also my job. Then into the oven for a bit and out would come a crisp crust with a thin layer of wonderful, sweet, cinnamon-y, goo that never lasted long.
Memories of those happy childhood days with grandmothers who have both gone on to heaven came flooding back as I savored the sweet, cinnamon goodness once again.
God uses similar simple things to help us remember what he has done for us. Each week we gather around his table and partake of a bit of simple unleavened bread and the scriptures that tell of Christ’s body being broken for us come to mind. Then we taste the red fruit of the vine and we are reminded of the precious blood of Jesus that he shed on the cross for our sins. As Paul says in 1 Corinthians 11:23-29:
“The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread and when He had given thanks, He broke it and said, “This is my body, which is broken for you; do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after supper He took the cup saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” NIV

Simple things but powerful reminders of happy events.

Meditation by Bob McCoy
Photo courtesy of the McCoy Family Archives

in flanders fields

FlagsonGraves

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
John McCrae (1872-1918).
Photo by Marge McCoy

Wishing all of our friends and followers a very safe, happy and blessed Memorial Day!

one thousand

wthousand

O for a thousand tongues to sing my great Redeemer’s praise,
the glories of my God and King, the triumphs of his grace!
My gracious Master and my God, assist me to proclaim,
to spread through all the earth abroad the honors of thy name.
Jesus! the name that charms our fears, that bids our sorrows cease;
’tis music in the sinner’s ears, ’tis life, and health, and peace.
He breaks the power of canceled sin, he sets the prisoner free;
his blood can make the foulest clean; his blood availed for me.
He speaks, and listening to his voice, new life the dead receive;
the mournful, broken hearts rejoice, the humble poor believe.
Lyrics O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing by Charles Wesley
Photo by Elizabeth Pike