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League of Reformed Bloggers

League of Reformed Bloggers



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February 27, 2007  |  Comments (0)  |  TrackBack (0)  |  Permalink

 

 

Galatians Six

Restoring Gently and Carrying Burdens

Reposted, because I needed to reread it.


Related: Are You Spiritual?


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February 20, 2007  |  Comments (3)  |  TrackBack (0)  |  Permalink

 

 

Poetry for Boys

As part of our homeschooling, Hubby has been reading poetry to the boys. Today he exegeted this gem from Kipling for them.

The Betrothed

“You must choose between me and your cigar.”


OPEN the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.

We quarrelled about Havanas—we fought o’er a good cheroot,
And I knew she is exacting, and she says I am a brute.

Open the old cigar-box—let me consider a space;
In the soft blue veil of the vapour musing on Maggie’s face.

Maggie is pretty to look at—Maggie’s a loving lass,
But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass.

There’s peace in a Larranaga, there’s calm in a Henry Clay;
But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away—

Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown—
But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o’ the talk o’ the town!

Maggie, my wife at fifty—grey and dour and old—
With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold!

And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are,
And Love’s torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar—

The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket—
With never a new one to light tho’ it’s charred and black to the socket!

Open the old cigar-box—let me consider a while.
Here is a mild Manila—there is a wifely smile.

Which is the better portion—bondage bought with a ring,
Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string?

Counsellors cunning and silent—comforters true and tried,
And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride?

Thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes,
Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close,

This will the fifty give me, asking nought in return,
With only a Suttee’s passion—to do their duty and burn.

This will the fifty give me. When they are spent and dead,
Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead.

The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main,
When they hear my harem is empty will send me my brides again.

I will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal,
So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall.

I will scent ’em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides,
And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides.

For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between
The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o’ Teen.

And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear,
But I have been Priest of Cabanas a matter of seven year;

And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light
Of stumps that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure and Work and Fight.

And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove,
But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o’-the-Wisp of Love.

Will it see me safe through my journey or leave me bogged in the mire?
Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire?

Open the old cigar-box—let me consider anew—
Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you?

A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke;
And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke.

Light me another Cuba—I hold to my first-sworn vows.
If Maggie will have no rival, I’ll have no Maggie for Spouse!


--Rudyard Kipling


Rumor has it A.A. Milne poems will be featured next week, in honor of R-almost-8's birthday.

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February 15, 2007  |  Comments (7)  |  TrackBack (0)  |  Permalink

 

 

On Disruption and Relationships

Wisdom from Barbara Curtis and Elisabeth Elliot.

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February 09, 2007  |  Comments (2)  |  TrackBack (0)  |  Permalink

 

 

Welcome, Baby Boy!

Cradle of Love Bright.jpg

Please join me in praising our Lord for another baby boy for my friends Tara and Jorge. We've known each other since our oldest boys were babies together. I've cried tears of joy for her tonight, hearing of the birth of her third son, into his father's hands.

Birth art by Nancy Bright

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February 06, 2007  |  Comments (2)  |  TrackBack (0)  |  Permalink

 

 

To Console, To Understand, To Love

Lord, Make Me an Instrument of Thy Peace


Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

- St. Francis of Assisi (13th Century)

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February 04, 2007  |  Comments (3)  |  TrackBack (0)  |  Permalink

 

 


 
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