"Your word is a lantern to my feet

and a light upon my path." Psalm 119:105

Leaving the campfire last Saturday night, I used the flashlight. As the flickering light from the fire receded behind me, the steady light in my hand gave me the security to walk on the uneven ground up to the Dollhouse. I walked steadily, with confidence, on the path. This is a wonderful metaphor for God's word and promise. Sometimes, I feel like I'm in that unpredictable campfire light, blazing with understanding, sparks flying everywhere as I go thither and yon, trying to fulfill my responsibilities at Church. Other times, the fire dies down, and I'm lulled into a kind of stupor, barely listening, barely connecting to anyone or any word.

But, those times I am letting God guide me through regular reading of his Word, I am in better balance. I feel energized, with the sure light of his Word, rather than scattered, and I walk steadily and surely on the path to Him.

Lord, help me to keep your lantern cleaned and shining. Help me to see my way to You. Amen

I am particularly philosophical and prayerful tonight because I just returned from a wake for an old friend who was too young to leave this life. And I remember with sorrow that the last time we were together, he embarrassed me terribly, and the next day, when I was over it, he felt too embarrassed by his behavior to talk with me. Summer came, and he lost a kidney to cancer. When he recuperated, I saw him in church again, but he still avoided me. I let it go, because I had plenty of time to mend this fence.

Well, I didn't have plenty of time, and tomorrow I read the Epistle at his funeral. Forgive me, friend.

Shine on, Harvest Moon

It's beautiful out there tonight. The moon is full, the sky is clear, and it is still warm. The garden came through a frost without a nip, so maybe more tomatoes have a chance to ripen, after all.

I'm so often too tired to write at night. The only real thinking I do, besides planning workshops and trainings, I do at the Campground. Summer has left us behind; autumn will bring more organization around here, I hope! Traipsing out to the Dollhouse every weekend has been a blessing; DB and I have enjoyed this summer more than any I can remember easily. But, the crisp nights and bright blue days make me want to be home on the weekends.

I have been obsessed with color these last few weeks. I wrote in my mobile journal, a couple of weeks ago: Yesterday, on our Trail hike, I was moved by the goldenrod--field after field of the deep brilliant yellow, broken on the roadsides by the occasional purple New England aster, or a thistle or the chicory blue, or a white Queen Anne's lace. And the sky! It was cerulean like only an Autumn sky can be. Walking through the woods, we came suddenly upon a pond and it was almost too beautiful to comprehend.

The farm stand at P's is especially full of color these days; rows of orangey-red tomatoes, yellow peaches, blue, blue, blueberries, green and red peppers, red and green apples, deep green bunches of broccoli, piles of corn in its green husks, tan potatoes, soft yellow melons and bright, clear yellow "green gage" plums, yellow squash, green squash (there are far more greens in the natural world than there are words to describe them) purple-nearly-black plums.

And the leaf show is yet to come.

Lord, your world is magnificent. But its light is a little dimmer for me tonight. Receive my friend, and comfort his family. Goodnight.


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