For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.

Matthew 7:8

Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.

Revelation 3:20

I love this picture of the big door.  It is pretty, isn't it?  Yes, I am in here goofing off on the computer instead of vacuuming, and mopping, and doing laundry.  It will still be there in a little while.  I worked this morning and so did Tommy. 

I am getting into a sort of routine with the housework and cooking and such.  If I plan meals and work hard on my off days, it all gets done.  And...if it doesn't get done right then, it gets done without or caught up later.   As I said, we are fairly relaxed around here.

Earlier today I was reading on the internet and fell headlong into George Herbert.

I thought I'd share this one, since I subject you all to my love of hymns pretty often.

A True Hymn

by George Herbert

My Joy, my Life, my Crown!
     My heart was meaning all the day,
               Somewhat it fain would say,
And still it runneth muttering up and down
With only this, My Joy, my Life, my Crown!

               Yet slight not those few words;
     If truly said, they may take part
               Among the best in art:
The fineness which a hymn or psalm affords
Is, when the soul unto the lines accord.

               He who craves all the mind,
     And all the soul, and strength, and time,
               If the words only rhyme,
Justly complains that somewhat is behind
To make His verse, or write a hymn in kind.

               Whereas if the heart be moved,
     Although the verse be somewhat scant,
               God doth supply the want;
As when the heart says, sighing to be approved,
"O, could I love!" and stops, God writeth, "Loved."

O Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

Happy Mother's Day!

Thanking Him for the gift and grace of motherhood.