Sweet Nothings

This was yet again a busy weekend. Unfortunately this was not all fun and games, but more on that another day.

Sunday at church the Pastor's sermon was based on what we humans are wired for. For example; cheetas are wired to run fast, the swallows of San Juan Capistrano are wired to return from somewhere in Argentina every spring and then back again in the fall, hummingbirds are wired to be able to hover in order to get nectar, etc. What are humans wired for? Answer: To worship.

But that is not really what my post is about. He was giving an analogy using the word "behold". He said that we see things....but somedays a veil is lifted and then we really SEE things. To behold something is to really see it clearly.

The analogy he used was how a son often takes on characteristics and actions of his father. He said it was because children are so perceptive and that the child had really "beheld" his father. He said something like "how a daughter will set the table because she has seen the way her mother does it......or how a son will want to fix something because he has seen his father do it".

So, of course I was sitting in church feeling guilty again because I don't know if Zander will ever behold his father and because I still don't know how I really feel about that.

Now, I don't know if my mother can read my mind or if she was perceptive and "beheld" my expression. But, she leaned over and whispered to me, "I think Zander would rather set the table anyway.".

I smiled, and for now, the guilt went away.

******************************************************************

I also wanted to post lyrics to a song we sometimes sing in church.....it just touched me a little bit more than usual this weekend:

This Is My Father's World

This is my Father's world, and to my listening ears

All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.

This is my Father's world: I rest me in the thought

Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father's world, the birds their carols raise,

The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker's praise.

This is my Father's world: He shines in all that's fair;

In the rustling grass I hear Him pass; He speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father's world. O let me ne'er forget

That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.

This is my Father's world: why should my heart be sad?

The Lord is King; let the heavens ring! God reigns; let the earth be glad!

By Maltbie D. Babcock