Grandma Ruthie
When the angels sang…
Into the dark of a cold winter night,
Came a warm and radiant light.
Into a world where wars do not cease,
Came a babe who is Prince of Peace.
Into the confusion of a human mind,
Came a Counselor, wise and kind.
Into a life full of pain and grief,
Came the Shepherd for a wand’ring sheep.
And a hardened heart by sin so racked,
Looked on the light and defenses cracked,
Amazing love broke every barrier,
As the heart bowed down to the Lord and Savior.
And the angels sang!
Who is
at the Table?
Who
sits at my table, who eats of my bread?
Is it
only “the worthy” whose hunger is fed?
Who is
handed the menu and offered the fare?
To
whom do I say, “No, you can’t sit there!”
The
table is spread with a glorious feast.
Are invitees
“the highest,” excluding “the least?”
At the
banquet in heaven, which will happen someday,
Will
my “rejects” be seated, while I’m turned away?
Things I would like to do with Bill one more time:
*ice skate
*sing a duet
*cheer him on in a race
*walk to church holding hands
*fall asleep holding hands
*ride in the car
*take him a freshly baked cookie
*crawl in bed together
*wake up together
*tell each other about our day
*discuss an issue and reach a decision
*work in the garden
*talk while he empties his pockets onto the dresser
*sit in the bathtub and talk
*sit in the double recliner
*give him a bare …whoops…bear hug
