Pray for those of us who are not walking on streets of gold and sitting at the best banquet table ever created, especially my stepdad.
My mom entered into rest sometime between 10pm Sunday and 4am Monday, probably towards the latter. About a dozen family members and friends spent most of the last three days of her life holding her hand, talking to her in the 5% of so of the time she was awake, reminding her of God's promises to His people regarding death and Heaven, and helping the nurses keeping her comfortable. There is a certain, huge, blessing in getting to spend three full days together helping someone who really can't say "thank you" in any significant way--and especially without the TV blaring in the background.
ANZAC day poems. - Three poems, not in the usual order, for the service, and not from the service. Anzac Dawn service is tomorrow: I ndo not attend what has become a pagan da...
2 hours ago