This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every moring: great is thy faithfulness. The Lord is my portion saith my soul: therefore will I hope in him. The Lord is good unto them that wait for Him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD. Lamentations 3: 21-26

Friday, May 9, 2008

Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring

Performed by Celtic Woman

Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring

by Johann Sebastian Bach

Jesu, joy of man's desiring,
Holy Wisdom, Love most bright;
Drawn by Thee, our souls, aspiring,
Soar to uncreated light.
Word of God, our flesh that fashion'd,
With the fire of life impassion'd,
Striving still to truth unknown,
Soaring, dying, round Thy throne.

Through the way where hope is guiding,
Hark, what peaceful music rings!
Where the flock, in Thee confiding,
Drink of joy from deathless springs.
Theirs is beauty's fairest pleasure;
Theirs is wisdom's holiest treasure.
Thou dost ever lead Thine own
In the love of joys unknown.


I never, never post forwarded e-mails. But given the important and vital information this one contained, I felt it was my duty to warn women bloggers--mommy bloggers everywhere. My sister sent it to me so I am certain it is true. Read on and be afraid, be very afraid...

You've heard about people who have been abducted and had their kidneys removed by black-market organ thieves.

My thighs were stolen from me during the night a few years ago. I went to sleep and woke up with someone else's thighs. It was just that quick. The replacements had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine? I spent the entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans. And then the thieves struck again.

My bu^t was next. I knew it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my new rear-end to the thighs they had stuck me with earlier. But my new bu^t was attached at least three inches lower than my original! I realized I'd have to give up my jeans in favor of long skirts.

Two years ago I realized my arms had been switched. One morning I was fixing my hair and was horrified to see the flesh of my upper arm swing to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush. This was really getting scary - my body was being replaced one section at a time. What could they do to me next?

When my poor neck suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a turkey neck, I decided to tell my story. Women of the world, wake up and smell the coffee! Those 'plastic' surgeons are using REAL replacement body parts-stolen from you and me! The next time someone you know has something "lifted", look again - was it lifted from you?

THIS IS NOT A HOAX. This is happening to women everywhere every night.


P.S. Last year I thought some one had stolen my Boobs. I was lying in bed and they were gone! But when I jumped out of bed, I was relieved to see that they had just been hiding in my armpits as I slept. Now I keep them hidden in my waistband.

My good deed is done for the day. This was one of those anonymous forwards. If anyone knows who to credit it to, I would be happy to do so.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Wordless Wednesday


For more Wordless Wednesday visit the WW HUB

Guardians of Ga’Hoole Book One: The Capture

Guardians of Ga’Hoole Book One: The Capture by Kathryn Lasky

Keeping up with my sons’ reading has grown more and more difficult. I try to at least skim or read reviews from reliable sources before I go handing out books willy-nilly, but as they read faster and faster (and eat more, and create more laundry) I don’t always keep caught up. Then there is the difficulty of wanting to read books of my own, while I enjoy juvenile and young adult literature, it’s not my sole focus.

Roo has been reading the Guardian of Ga’Hoole Series. The cover art was effective and caught my attention. While definitely not an “easy reader” the print is not small and with under 250 pages it was a quick read for me.

I’ve always had a fascination with owls and Lasky’s thorough research and ability to translate that into prose, makes it easy to envision the owl characters of this story.

Book One: The Capture begins in the Forest of Tyto with one of the two focus characters, Soren a three week old barn owl. As the story unfolds he meets tiny, but mighty, Gylfie, an Elf Owl. The story tells of the abduction of these two owlets taken from their families and their plan and subsequent actions to escape their awful captors.

Guardians: The Capture has some very sad and dark themes: abduction, abuse, oppression, and destruction of families. There are positive themes also which include: friendship and loyalty, clinging to the teachings of family, remaining strong, persevering and believing.

Lasky’s writing was exciting enough to draw me in and keep me coming back to finish the story. Her use of anthropomorphism, giving human traits to animals, is well done, reminding me somewhat of Brian Jacques’ Redwall characters. I’ve noticed a lot of parents reading this series, either aloud to or alongside their children. Definitely the book provides a springboard for many topics.

Guardians of Ga H’oole is recommended for ages 9-13, although if a parent were reading aloud a younger audience would be able to follow it, depending on the temperament of the child—sensitive children may be upset by the violence that is inherent to the type of story, which I would describe as action/fantasy as much as a story about animals.

And yes…I will be reading the sequels…Roo’s enjoyed sharing with me and they are quite well done.

JOAN: The Mysterious Life of the Heretic Who Became a Saint

JOAN: The Mysterious Life of the Heretic Who Became a Saint by Donald Spoto

There are an overwhelming number of biographies, stories, poems, music, plays and movies about Joan of Arc, in fact we have more detailed evidence about her than anyone else in history up to her time.

Born near or during 1412 she died in 1431; she was said to be nineteen at her death. Possibly one of the most misrepresented women, people have questions if she was she a lesbi@n, mentally ill, a pro$titute who followed the troops of Charles VII, did she have delusions of grandeur, was she the witch and heretic that she was accused of?

Using previously drawn on accounts and more recently translated documents Spoto provides a compelling and comprehensive look at Joan. Viewing her through the lens of the 15th century and not the 20th or 21st, he presents her as a simple peasant girl, provides reasons himself demonstrates how her account of herself under interrogation by the Bishop Pierre Couchon, heavily influence by the English.

This was an extremely educational book about the young woman, I was deeply moved by her story. Spoto is a wonderful biographer. I’m not sure I agree completely with his theology, but he certainly tried to portray Joan in a fair and objective light.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Crown Him with Many Crowns

Crown Him with many crowns, the Lamb upon His throne.
Hark! How the heavenly anthem drowns all music but its own.
Awake, my soul, and sing of Him who died for thee,
And hail Him as thy matchless King through all eternity.

Crown Him the virgin’s Son, the God incarnate born,
Whose arm those crimson trophies won which now His brow adorn;
Fruit of the mystic rose, as of that rose the stem;
The root whence mercy ever flows, the Babe of Bethlehem.

Crown Him the Son of God, before the worlds began,
And ye who tread where He hath trod, crown Him the Son of Man;
Who every grief hath known that wrings the human breast,
And takes and bears them for His own, that all in Him may rest.

Crown Him the Lord of life, who triumphed over the grave,
And rose victorious in the strife for those He came to save.
His glories now we sing, who died, and rose on high,
Who died eternal life to bring, and lives that death may die.

Crown Him the Lord of peace, whose power a scepter sways
From pole to pole, that wars may cease, and all be prayer and praise.
His reign shall know no end, and round His pierc├Ęd feet
Fair flowers of paradise extend their fragrance ever sweet.

Crown Him the Lord of love, behold His hands and side,
Those wounds, yet visible above, in beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends his burning eye at mysteries so bright.

Crown Him the Lord of Heaven, enthroned in worlds above,
Crown Him the King to Whom is given the wondrous name of Love.
Crown Him with many crowns, as thrones before Him fall;
Crown Him, ye kings, with many crowns, for He is King of all.

Crown Him the Lord of lords, who over all doth reign,
Who once on earth, the incarnate Word, for ransomed sinners slain,
Now lives in realms of light, where saints with angels sing
Their songs before Him day and night, their God, Redeemer, King.

Crown Him the Lord of years, the Potentate of time,
Creator of the rolling spheres, ineffably sublime.
All hail, Redeemer, hail! For Thou has died for me;
Thy praise and glory shall not fail throughout eternity.

Words: Matthew Bridges and Godfrey Thring
Music: George Elvey

We sang this hymn this morning--I'll be singing it all day.