A warm spell has sparked the interest of biting flies on the beach. Landing on bare arms or legs, they give a nasty bite and fly off. My husband carries a fly swatter on his walk, carefully taking aim and quickly ending their food fest. Today more than five fell at his blows, and I suggested we ought mount their heads on a small post to carry as we walk, warning others of the consequences of attempting an attack. We laughed at the picture, but it made me think of the value of warnings. Sometimes, despite the warnings, I choose to do what I want, convinced that my way is better, confident that I’ll suffer no negative consequences. I have examples and warnings from both the Old and New Testaments, but I persist in making my own mistakes, suffering my own losses. I believe what the Bible tells me, and yet sometimes it seems to permeate so little into my conscience and actions. I need help, Lord, in hearing your word, in trusting its truth, in applying it to my behavior. Forgive me for failing to heed your warnings; please guide me into courses that are good for your service and for my eternal soul. Amen.
Friends came for dinner last night and bought me a piece of handmade jewelry. The pin is formed of overlapping pieces of shell glued to create a design as rhythmical
In a dune of pure white sand, a wild morning glory flourishes. Tightly coiled bud, full blossom and spent flower—it is a perfect picture of life’s stages. I wonder how