Sarah's Sundries

So my posts have had a gloomy overtone lately.  My mood, too...


I'm sorry.


It's just that the highs this year have been high, and the lows, so very low.


Somedays I'm Iris, singin' My Life.  That's the old man, I think.  Somedays, Patti, and I Am Not Alone. The new?


I've been up alone these past few nights (B.J. had meetings) soothing Nathan (he has croup) and taking apart two shirts to sew the little man a shirt and pants for Auntie Val's wedding tomorrow.  These quiet nights I've been both shamed and inspired by John Piper's biographical sermons.  C.S. Lewis, David Brainerd, William Tyndale...  


Tuesday night I listened about Jonathan Edwards, hunched over my machine, and Piper talked about going into a little room in the Yale library where Edwards' original sermon copies and books are kept.  There Piper found a Bible that Edwards and his wife Sarah had taken apart.  They hand-sewed it back together, with a blank piece of paper between each page, on which Edwards wrote notes as he worked through the Scriptures.  I had to smile when Piper said he turned to the first chapters of I Chronicles, curious if Edwards had any notes for those lengthy geneologies.  We are reading through those chapters at the supper table this week, the kids snickering periodically as B.J. valiantly attempts to prounouce names like Mahli and Mushi, Huppim and Shuppim.  Even Edwards' note pages on these chapters were full of writing. 


How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!  If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand: when I awake, I am still with thee.  Psalm 139:17-18