A Book Trailer

Here's a recent project I worked on with my brother J.D. for Lamplighter Publishing.

Enjoy!

Safari and Psalm 36:5-6

In Yellowstone National Park again recently...

Your mercy, O LORD, is in the heavens;
Your faithfulness reaches to the clouds.
Your righteousness is like the great mountains;
Your judgments are a great deep;
O LORD, You preserve man and beast.
-Psalm 36:5-6

ak

A Mother's Day Tribute

Today is for Mothers, so here are a few words from a grateful daughter's heart.

Blessings on the hand of women! Fathers, sons, and daughters cry, And the sacred song is mingled With the worship in the sky-- Mingles where no tempest darkens, Rainbows evermore are hurled; For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the world. William Ross Wallace, 1865, from his poem, "What Rules The World"

I am so thankful for my Mother's godly influence in my life, and the Lord's kindness in placing her there. Mom turned down worldly pursuits for one that would cost her life in the world's terms, and instead found her life abundantly, as the Word promised. She is my heroine for her brave heart and her vision for God to be center in our home. As my siblings and I grew up, Mom modeled (and still does) womanhood not only in big things but in her habitual acts and daily work. The aroma of her homemade bread is still the olfactory theme of my life. Some of my fondest memories as a little girl are of Mom reading aloud to us; her conversations filled mine and my siblings' childhood and gave us a Jesus-centered education. As I type, I hear her voice reading to my 6 and 8 year old brothers in the next room, giving them the same precious gift. Now that I'm older and still at home for now, I have the blessing to still learn from her, and observe her wisdom in managing our home, loving her family, and showing hospitality to others. She is a strong pillar under our family roof, and I call her blessed! In honor of my wonderful Mother, below is a quotation on the important and colossal position given to mothers by the all-wise Creator.

"If drudgery only means dreadfully hard work, I admit the woman drudges in the home, as a man might drudge at the Cathedral of Amiens or drudge behind a gun at Trafalgar. But if it means that the hard work is more heavy because it is trifling, colorless and of small import to the soul, then as I say, I give it up; I do not know what the words mean . . . How can it be a large career to tell other people's children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone? No; a woman's function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute. I will pity Mrs. Jones for the hugeness of her task; I will never pity her for its smallness." G.K. Chesterton, from his book "What's Wrong With The World"

Hello Spring

Hello Spring,

You have been a long time coming. I am glad to see you. You bring hope that warmth and color will once more grace earth's face. It is a brave thing to do, and that is why I like you. You are a heartening gift from a good Giver, and I rejoice in the joy you spring on the world.

There is not one blade of grass, there is no color in this world that is not intended to make us rejoice.
— John Calvin

It is May, and from my bedroom window I have watched you grow stronger and stronger. Other places you come swiftly, but not here. Here, you come slowly. I wonder if that is why I savor your arrival so much. Old Man Winter's dying breaths still blow over the snow-shrouded mountains, reluctant to relinquish power, but he is fading fast. The grass bravely pushes up from its brown grave, the birds raise hopeful voices, the rain makes mirrors of heaven out of the mud, and bravely you come steadily home.

I remember watching you this time last year, from a hospital window. One May day you looked softly in and spread your sunrise glow on our grief, and it seemed the gentleness of our Maker caressed our hearts the morning my infant brother, Isaac Samuel Triumph King, went to be with Him. And I cannot help but think with eager anticipation of the day you come to stay, and spread your glow over the Triumphal procession when all the King's subjects will dance with joy in His unfading glory, Home to stay.

Yes, you remind me of something deeper than what you seem. I think every brilliant color and keen clean scent and lengthening sunbeam is a proof of something more...

When I look across the sun-struck fields, I know in my inmost bones that my joy is not solely in the spring, for spring alone, being always returning, would be always sad. There is somebody or something walking there, to be crowned with flowers: and my pleasure is in some promise yet possible and in the resurrection of the dead.
— G.K. Chesterton, A Miscellany Of Men

Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.
— Martin Luther

Yes, you are more than a season. You are a Promise. The brown earth cannot hold back the tender green grass forever, because, once upon a time in history, it could not hold back a God-Man for even three days. And every year since that morning, you repeat the Promise.

We, according to His promise, look for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells. — 2 Peter 3:13

I like you. Please stay a while, and show us the beauty that grows from the dirt, our Creator's glory reflected in puddles of sky.

Sincerely,

audrey