I was born to ramble

I was suprised by joy the other day when I snagged a hard-back copy of They Stand Together: The Letters of C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves at a cute little bookstore for five bucks. Lewis wrote this poem in memory of Greeves:

"That we may mark with wonder and chaste dread
At hour of noon, when, with our limbs outspread
Lazily in the whispering grass, we lie
to gaze out fully upon the windy sky--
Far, far away, and kindly, friend with friend,
To talk the old, old talk that has no end,
Roaming--without a name--without a chart--
The unknown garden of another's heart."

:)

Not the best poetry in the world, but I've felt especially blessed by friendship and comradery these past few weeks. So, this poem kind of hits home.

I also read a bumber sticker today on the back of a van that stated, "Somedays I just want to be a missing person." I can sympathize with that lately. Sometimes I get this sudden urge to run away from the impending uncertainty of my future. (I just imagined some lady throwing her hand to her forehead and fainting). I need to stop being so dramatic. God in is control. God is sovereign. God is good. God knows the plans He has for me. Fret not. Faint not. Oh dear.

We celebrated Pa Doug's (my dad's dad) birthday today. He turned 82 and he goes non-stop all the time. Literally, we had to meet early for dinner because Pa Doug had been invited to play at this bluegrass get-together thingy. I love it. I really hope if God chooses to bless me with old age that I'll be as energetic and full of life as he is.