Daughter #1, Mr. Smith and I are off to the Prairie this morning. Hopefully the traffic will not be too bad on this Labor Day weekend. Prayers for travel mercies are much appreciated!
Ready to hit the road!
Happy Labor Day–the day I salute the men who do the work that women do not want–the men who pick up your trash, and fix the roads, who are plumbers and electricians, who mine the coal and fix our cars and fight the wars and protect the streets. The ones who stop on the highway and pull people out of burning cars. I thank you.
“I have friends in overalls whose friendship I would not swap for the favor of the kings of the world.” ― Thomas A. Edison
Come, labor on. Who dares stand idle on the harvest plain while all around us waves the golden grain? And to each servant does the Master say, “Go work today.”
And today I am packing a bag to travel up to see the prairie girls and DN tomorrow. Here’s a poem by William Cullen Bryant to get us all in the mood…”The Prairies”:
These are the gardens of the Desert, these
The unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful,
For which the speech of England has no name—
The Prairies. I behold them for the first,
And my heart swells, while the dilated sight
Takes in the encircling vastness. Lo! they stretch,
In airy undulations, far away,
As if the ocean, in his gentlest swell,
Stood still, with all his rounded billows fixed,
And motionless forever. —Motionless?—
No—they are all unchained again. The clouds
Sweep over with their shadows, and, beneath,
The surface rolls and fluctuates to the eye;
Dark hollows seem to glide along and chase
The sunny ridges. Breezes of the South!
Who toss the golden and the flame-like flowers,
And pass the prairie-hawk that, poised on high,
Flaps his broad wings, yet moves not—ye have played
I forgot to mention that Sunday was the birthday of Jorge Luis Borges, the great Argentine essayist, poet and translator. As you know, he is a favorite of mine.
I will toast him tonight and read some poetry.
I watched a good movie the other night, one recommended by my DP several years ago. The Professorand the Madman (2019) is the true story of professor James Murray, who in 1879 became director of an Oxford University Press project, The New English Dictionary on Historical Principles, and the man who became his friend and colleague, W.C. Minor, an American doctor who submitted more than 10,000 entries while he was confined at Broadmoor Criminal Lunatic Asylum at Crowthorne after being found not guilty of murder due to insanity.
Mel Gibson plays the Professor and Sean Penn is the Madman. They are both excellent.
This is not a film that would appeal to a large audience, but I liked it. Despite the fact that it takes place in large part in an insane asylum and a university, it is full of interesting, intelligent and kindly people. The only real cruelty is perpetrated by well-meaning doctors trying to advance medical understanding. There is even a Christian message.
I also re-watched Seven Days in Utopia (2011) starring Robert Duval and Lucas Black, two more favorites of mine. It tells the story of Luke Chisholm, a young professional golfer, who, after melting down during a tournament and shooting 80 in the final round, crashes his car into a fence and finds himself stuck in Utopia, Texas while his car is repaired. He meets retired golfer Johnny Crawford and learns from him how to move on with his life and career. It also has a Christian message.
This movie is actually rated G!
I am currently re-reading Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather. It is a great book, so beautifully written.
“Under his buckskin riding-coat he wore a black vest and the cravat and collar of a churchman. A young priest, at his devotions; and a priest in a thousand, one knew at a glance. His bowed head was not that of an ordinary man,—it was built for the seat of a fine intelligence. His brow was open, generous, reflective, his features handsome and somewhat severe. There was a singular elegance about the hands below the fringed cuffs of the buckskin jacket. Everything showed him to be a man of gentle birth—brave, sensitive, courteous. His manners, even when he was alone in the desert, were distinguished. He had a kind of courtesy toward himself, toward his beasts, toward the juniper tree before which he knelt, and the God whom he was addressing.”
So read a poem, watch a good movie, re-read a favorite book, and praise God from whom all blessings flow.
The nice weather continues. I know it will get hot again, but fall is in the air!
I watched the video of John MacArthur’s memorial service which was held last Saturday. (Most of it–it was over two hours long.) Alistair Begg, John Piper, Joni Eareckson Tada, Sinclair Ferguson all spoke movingly of their friend. Sinclair Ferguson, though, is really wonderful. (He starts at 1:51:00.) Interestingly, the Bible readings were the same ones read at the OM’s memorial service! John 14:1-6 and I Corinthians 15.
I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. 51 Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, 52 in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. 53 For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. (I Corinthians 15:50-53)
As Albert Mohler wrote: “John MacArthur will be greatly missed and deeply mourned. He demonstrated faithfulness over a long lifetime of honorable ministry—a remarkable gift to Christ’s church. His race is now complete—and what a remarkable race it was. But, remember this: Pastor John MacArthur would be the first to say that the priority above all other priorities is that the faithful exposition of Holy Scripture continue until Jesus comes. Soli Deo Gloria.”
August continues to wind down. I have been thinking more about small joys and I ran across this quote from Pilgrim’s Inn, which I have quoted before:
“…Hilary enjoyed himself, just as he had enjoyed himself drinking the port. Increasingly, as he got older, he enjoyed things. As his personal humility deepened, so did his awareness of the amazing bounty of God…so many things…The mellow warmth of the port, the pleasure of the game, the sight of Lucilla’s lovely old face in the firelight, and David’s fine hands holding the cards, his awareness of Margaret’s endearing simplicity, and the contentment of the two old dogs dozing on the hearth…One by one the small joys fell. Only to Hilary no joy was small; each had its own mystery, aflame with the glory of God.”
I can really relate to this, can’t you? Coffee with a friend, a glass of wine with my daughters and joking about New Jersey “Charbonnay”. The satisfaction of filling in a hole in the driveway with Quik-crete (just add water!) with the boy.
Along those lines, daughter #1 and I went to a good estate sale on Saturday. It was at a big old, well-maintained three-story house in the old neighborhood where I grew up. We got a few books and some pretty blue juice glasses and Lamar gave us our usual discount. We drove by the old manse on Westgate and it was good to see it totally renovated and looking good. Interestingly, it is owned now by a law professor who is also a faculty fellow with the Carver Project. The world is more than we know.
Meanwhile the twins went to the farmers’ market out in their neck of the woods. And the prairie girls got ice cream.
After church on Sunday, daughter #1 and I went to our favorite winery in Hillsboro for the first time this year!
We had a lovely time sitting outside listening to live music on a really lovely day.
So remember, no joy is really small, after all, and all are aflame with God’s glory.
It finally cooled off in flyover country and it is quite a relief. We’ve had a “too darn hot” run here in August. Soccer practice was even called off! But it is bearable to go outside again, thankfully.
Kindergarten is going well.
And third grade, so I hear, as well.
Meanwhile, I have been keeping busy and my shredder has been a-buzzing. I am making progress.
Also, as you know, John Wayne movies are my comfort food for the soul. This week I watched The Alamo (1960) and I was impressed. It is a fine, moving film, with excellent performances from all three leads and the supporting actors, including Frankie Avalon. And the last 45 minutes or so brought me to tears several times. Really. I could not find any good clips on YouTube, so you’ll just have to take my word for it.
Well, I am looking forward to a visit from Mr. Smith this afternoon and dinner at the boy’s house tonight. Tomorrow there is a good estate sale to check out and a chance to say ‘hey’ to Lamar. It’s the little things, right? Never overlook those everyday joys!
“And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” (Hebrews 10:24-25)
I was thinking about my grandkids going back to school on Monday and in particular Katie, who started Kindergarten. (I hear that she was a bit disappointed that she did not learn to read on the first day.) Anyway, I looked up my class picture from Kindergarten in 1961–there I am on the right with the bangs. I liked school. I had made it through Junior Kindergarten and learned the ropes. I have no doubt that little Katie will like school too–she has a long road ahead of her!
“I suppose identity depends on memory. And if memory is blotted out, then I wonder if I exist–I mean if I am the same person. Of course, I don’t have to solve that problem. It is up to God, if any.”
There are still an amazing bounty of flowers still blooming in our flyover town. It must be all that rain we had in the spring. Long after the Daylilies in my yard are gone, Don’s garden is still pretty lush…
Meanwhile the twins started third grade and Katie started kindergarten. Sunrise, sunset. And I guess that means the summer is over…
This picture of the prairie girls reminds me of the conversation I had with Lottie about her recent trip to Oklahoma. I said, oh yes, they have great clouds in Oklahoma–big sky, big clouds. And she said (with a bit of a tone) well, their clouds are no better than our clouds here in Missouri! I stand corrected.
Here’s a wonderful reminder from John Piper about God’s provision for us.
We won’t endure on our own. God brings brothers and sisters in Christ into our lives to help us along the path to heaven. That’s actually one of the great themes in Bunyan’s famous allegory Pilgrim’s Progress. Faithful and Hopeful are the friends Christian needs, his fellowship, along his path to the gates of the Celestial City.
And I really like the new Zach Williams song, don’t you?
*Oliver in Only Murders in the Building
Mabel Mora – “I’m a stranger that lied to you a bunch. And you’re two randos that dragged me into a podcast.”
Oliver Putnam – “‘Rando’ is a slang term for a person of no significance.”
Charles-Haden Savage – “I used context clues, but thank you.”
I spent a lot of time with my therapy dog Mr. Smith this weekend. Also daughter #1 and I went through more stuff. She also played DJ and we listened to old CDs, which we haven’t done in ages. (We bought an old LP at an estate sale on Saturday and that got us started.)
Don Williams is just the best for whatever ails you–I think even Mr. Smith mellowed out to his dulcet tones.
I went to church and Sunday School; the sermon was on Psalm 24.
I love that the Westminster Shorter Catechism answers the question, What is the chief end of man?, so clearly and concisely: to glorify God and enjoy him forever. That is what Psalm 24 is about. God is the creator and we are the worshippers–with clean hands and a pure heart.
Have a good week. Pet a nice dog, listen to some good music, worship God and enjoy Him forever. Feel the joy.
Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; 2 but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night.
It’s Friday again–do you have plans for the weekend?
Me neither. I have been reading some poetry. Here’s one:
A Time to Talk
When a friend calls to me from the road And slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don’t stand still and look around On all the hills I haven’t hoed, And shout from where I am, What is it? No, not as there is a time to talk. I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground, Blade-end up and five feet tall, And plod: I go up to the stone wall For a friendly visit.
dual personalities 