Well that line up of pictures makes our life look all pretty and quaint. Well, actually, some of it is. The garden, patio, and summer weather are lovely. And we have so much for which to be grateful, like worthy work and beautiful lakes.
Elv and I fished on Cheney Lake Saturday night. We caught four sunfish which we kept and two or so bass which we couldn’t keep. The bigger bass were jumping a lot, feeding, in great splashes. While the bull frogs and birds serenaded us. So did the grandkids swimming on the shore with their shouts and laughter. Once when I set the hook and began reeling a fat sunfish in, he flung himself behind a water lily stem rather than be caught so that my line broke above the bobber. We could watch his fishy career up and down and around because he still had the hook in his jaw. Elv paddled the canoe around following him in tight circles until we could catch that darting bobber in the net and haul him in after all. Never caught a fish just so before. Probably never will again. There are eight likely sized fillets in the freezer now.
I don’t have anything profound to share. Every other anabaptist blogger is commenting on our latest tragedy, of which I’m not making light. I don’t need to comment, I think, because it’s all been said. Praying seems to me to be my most sensible response.
I will say this. Our sixteen grandchildren will certainly grow up in a different age than we have so far though they’ll still have the same Sovereign God as we do. Such a great comfort this is. And Jesus is still King of Kings. How are we making this real for our grandkids today?
Stone House Scribblings 