

"I'm so tired." I often say that when I was in the east coast. Little do I know, I was making memories. Come Friday night, the house was full of friends, relatives and newer friends. Come Saturday morning, we're rushing to get ready for church, to be on time for sabbath school, making sure the potluck dish was loaded in the trunk of the car. Come lunch, we're gazing our way through one of our closest and dearest brethrens. Saturday sundown, we took turns hanging in someone's cozy rack and close the sabbath day with sweet smelling words from the Bible and personal revelation of God's grace. We would drive all the way north to Bergenfield, even northwest to the Pennsylvania mountains and down south to the Sandy Hook Jersey shore. Most importantly, the memories of friends, the crowded room with smiles, babies cooing and young mothers' brave weekday stories. So sweet. So relevant.
On my way to work, one Monday morning, in my new California home address, I tagged my husband's arms and graciously bowed with him so that I can pray this: "Oh Lord, heavenly Father, how great thou art. Your throne full of mercy and grace, so humbling and so loving, that here, at this moment, no words can explain how thankful I am that you have blessed us with such great friends, relationships and gazing ability to full appreciation of the strength and courage you allow me to come this far. It could have been worse, oh Lord. But each day, a new beginning comes to me with so much learning. Thank you for helping me find ways towards your throne of ever flowing joy, peace, hope and continued evidence of your PROMISES. In spirit, in truth, I worship you." -glenda c.