Irish Blessings

May the road rise to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face.

And rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

۞

May love and laughter light your days,

and warm your heart and home.

May good and faithful friends be yours,

wherever you may roam.

May peace and plenty bless your

world with joy that long endures.

May all life's passing seasons bring the best to you and yours!

An Interview With The Brookshire Ladies

Recently I asked Emily Rose and Breezy Brookshire, creators of the Daughters of His Story Paper Dolls and founders of Noble Rose Press, if they would be willing to do an interview with me. They graciously accepted.

1. What gave you the idea for Historical Paper Dolls?

We were working on paper dolls for the Girlhood Home Companion Magazine, when Mom came up with the idea that we could sell our own historical paper dolls of Christian women from history.

We planned to sell them in an Etsy shop, but as things progressed plans changed. A friend suggested that we try to see if Vision Forum might be interested in them and then began the process of having to answer several important questions, such as how the dolls would be packaged, printed and priced to name a few. Through that process we were able to develop a larger entrepreneurial mindset for the project (and future projects).

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2. What inspired the name of Noble Rose Press?

It was suggested to us that we have a business name which would be the umbrella company and publishers of the Daughters of His Story Paper Dolls. Our family sat down and each began proposing company names. We first settled on Rose being in title because of the feminine appearance of the flower. Then when Breezy mentioned Noble, they seemed to fit together. In the 1828 Webster's Dictionary, Noble means: ready to receive truth of the best kind; choice; excellent. With Noble Rose Press we desire to glorify the Lord through providing excellent products that inspire girls in biblical femininity and that proclaims the truth of God's Word.

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3. When did you first become interested in being Entrepreneurs?

For a few years now we've thought about becoming entrepreneurs, but it was not until last year we set up our Etsy shops to sell art prints and hand-made items. Starting with Etsy helped us learn some basics such as using PayPal, figuring out packaging, getting familiar with shipping prices, etc.

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4. Would you mind sharing some of the hardships you faced while creating/designing/producing the paper dolls?

While creating the paper dolls we had some extra long days, and at times we would grow a little weary, but those were the days God was especially teaching us to lean on Him for strength. Once we had everything for the booklets completed, we had to correct a few color issues with the company that printed our collections. It took several tries to get a few of the colors to come out just right, which was a little discouraging at the time. But now we are more familiar with how things work, and we learned more about the process that way than if everything had gone perfect the first time.

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5. Is there any advice or resources you can give to young ladies embarking on a similar journey of entrepreneurship?

Seek out wise counsel from your parents. The wisdom of Proverbs 11:14 proved to be invaluable as we were so blessed to have wise godly counsel.
A few resources that were greatly helpful to us throughout the process of creating our own business and producing products was Vision Forum's Entrepreneurial Bootcamp CDs, and New Venture Lab. These will help you look at the big picture of starting a home business. If you want to start small, Etsy is a great website that hosts online shops at reasonable pricing to get you started with an online business.

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6. Along with the Noble Rose Press website, where else can the Daughters of His Story paper dolls be purchased?

At this time, the Daughters of His Story Paper Dolls are also available from Vision Forum and Remembrance Press. We are hoping to expand to be able to reach more families.

>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>:>::::<:<:<:<:<:<:<:<:<:

Emily Rose & Breezy Brookshire are lovely ,God-fearing stay-at-home daughters with a Proverbs 31 woman vision.

They are ingenuitive entreprenuers and are a constant source of encouragement and inspiration to many young ladies. You can read more about them on their blogs; Emily Rose at Simply Vintagegirl, and Breezy at A Bowl of Moss and Pebbles.

Thank you so much dear friends! I'm sure everyone enjoyed reading more about Noble Rose Press and the Daughters of His Story paper dolls.

Blessings,



P.S. You can vote for Emily Rose & Breezy here, and here, if you so wish. I know they would apprciate it. :)

Another Laughable Piece Of Our Family's History

Here is a continuation of a few stories that my Dad wrote about our experiences with pigs.
In my humble opinion, it's not as funny as the first one, but I think you'll get a laugh or two from it. Enjoy!

We got our piglets home and into the pen. The problem now was what to feed them. We did what most people would do in that situation; we went to a local feed store and bought a bag of pig chow. Kim and I had heard of all of the nasty things that happen on a commercial hog farm like feeding pigs hormones, anti-biotics and animal bi-products, not to mention forcing them to live in cramped, polluted quarters. After I had fed them a few times I finally read the ingredients on the bag. The first ingredient listed was Bacitracin, which I knew was a topical antibiotic for humans. The rest of the ingredients read like a Twinkie's bar.
I called around on Monday and could only find one local feed store that sold un-medicated hog feed. They mixed it themselves and it was relatively cheap, so that was that. Watching them eat it, I noticed that it seemed pretty dry and would get up their snouts, making them sneeze and cough. I told Kim that the book says that pigs love milk, so wouldn't it be great to find a supply of milk to add to their feed. I started the next day by going to a major supermarket in town. I spoke to the dairy manager and asked him what they do with expired milk. He said that long before it expires they pour it down the drain, several gallons every day.

I asked if I could come by sometimes and get a few gallons before they threw it out. He asked what I needed it for. When I told him I was raising hogs I got the usual raised eyebrows, followed by the, but why? look. "Nope", he said, "Can't do that". I asked him why not. He said that if I got sick from drinking it, the store could get sued. "But I'm not going to drink it", I said, "the pigs are". "How do I know that?", he asked, "Because I just told you", I said. Obviously in the world of food regulations my word wasn't good enough. I tried again to reason with him, but to no avail.
It was the same story at every store I went to. Finally, almost as an after thought, I stopped at our local family owned grocery store. Here the manager was interested in my endeavor and we talked for a while about it. He told me about how his father had raised hogs when he was young too. He agreed to give me whatever day-old milk they had on hand whenever I stopped in, and wished me luck. After that I had an endless supply of milk to go with my all-natural feed. Our two pigs got a gallon at each feeding, which they devoured; like pigs.

This went on for a couple of weeks. Owning livestock was a new experience for us and was not at all like I expected. It was somewhere between having pets and children. You feel obligated to check on their well being far more often than a pet, I mean after all you're going to eat them. Whenever we would come back home we would drive the van through the pasture back to the pig pen to check on them. They would always run scared to the back of the pen, then once they recognized us they would come galloping up towards us, their ears flapping over their eyes as they ran.
One night we came home late. I drove to the back of the pasture and pointed the headlights into the pen; no pigs. Kim and I got out with a flashlight; we climbed over the hog-wire and started looking around. There was no sight of them until we got to the very back, where the pen started to slope downhill. Here we found them both dead. It was a tragic sight, something or some-things had clawed them completely from head to hoof, they had even ripped the tough skin open in several places. We stood there looking at them for a minute trying to make sense of what had happened. I figured it had to be wild dogs, because coyotes would have at least made a meal of them
We now had our second big failure as self-sufficient homesteaders. If it had not been for the impending Y2K question we might have given up. Instead we spent all day on Saturday raising and re-enforcing the hog wire fence, doubling its height in the process. This was something that we wanted very badly, something that we felt like we were being led to do. On Sunday we drove back to Mr. Floyd's.

So now we had two more piggies, encased in a virtual fortress of hog and barbed-wire. Up to this point we had discouraged our dogs from hanging around the pen, we weren't sure if they posed a danger to the pigs or not. Now, however, we would bring them with us whenever we went back there in the hope that they might patrol that area of our land while we were away from home. The extra-high fencing would also keep them at bay if their tastes ever turned to pork. One morning before work as I was walking the feed bucket back to the hogs. Abbie, our German Shepherd, went with me. While I was feeding the pigs, Abbie began to lower her head slowly and she got very stiff. She then started a long low growl that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. She was staring into the woods beyond the pen. When I looked in that direction all I could see were trees. But then I could barely make out two white figures on all fours standing perfectly still, looking at us from about 75 yards away. I could see that they were two neighborhood pit-bulls, who had obviously been sneaking up to the pen when they heard us coming. I told Abbie to go get them and she took off running, growling and barking. The pit-bulls took off and thankfully we never saw them again.
Mr. Floyd had told us to make sure we wormed the pigs after a few days. Of course we said o.k. not knowing exactly what he was talking about. After it looked like our newest ones would live we called the vet again. He arranged for us to come by and pick up a couple of syringes. He noted that these were sub-cutaneous wormers, where you needed to pull up a flap of skin and inject it, avoiding any muscle. It just so happened that the day we were going to worm the pigs, Kim's brother David showed up at the house. I was kind of surprised, especially since it had only been a few weeks since the pig incident. As he walked into the house he looked at me and said Killed any pigs today?" I just smiled and said, "The day's not over yet", and what follows is the second reason of two that David does not come to our house much any more.

I told him he was just in time to help me worm the pigs. "No way", he said. I explained that these were just two little 30 pound piggies in a relatively small pen. All we had to do was hold them down and inject them with the medicine; he could take one and I would take the other. After a while of arguing he finally relented and agreed to help. We went back to the pen and David and I climbed in. It did seem like a much less intimidating task than the prior fiasco in Alabama. That is until we tried to catch one.
Pigs are fast. David and I spent about five minutes just trying to get close to our individual pigs. They would wait until you were about three feet from them and then burst away in trail of dust. The feeling began to get all too familiar. "Alright", he said, "I'm not doing this again". We agreed to focus on one pig at a time; we would both catch it and I would hold it while David injected it. Even this took several minutes of chasing and squealing, until finally David had one blocked from the front while I snuck up from behind. I leapt onto the piggy's back and then held on for dear life.
It was like jumping onto a small rodeo bull. It's amazing the strength of an animal that small. I was shaking and rocking; the pig was squealing for it's life and David was standing there enjoying it all. "Come on, Come on!", I yelled. David laughed and got down on his knees next to the little pink hog and I. "Quit moving, I can't stick it if you're moving!", he said. "Quit moving!?, Are you kidding!?" I struggled to hold onto the pig, his thorny little hairs made It feel like hugging a porcupine. David was having trouble pulling out the skin while trying to inject it at the same time. I had a good grip, so I pulled out some skin for him. "There, go go!", I said. David pushed in the plunger and we were done, I jumped up and Mrs. Piggy ran to a far corner.

"You're right, this is easier than running a pig down dead", he said with a smile. I took a few minutes to catch my breath. Kim gave me the other syringe and we started trapping the second one. Of course this was going to be much harder since she had already seen what had happened to her sister. After about five minutes, David was standing behind a tree while I ran her by. He jumped on her back and the pig went crazy. He didn't think it was nearly as funny as when I was holding my pig down. "Go, Go!", he shouted. I had the same problem of trying to get a piece of skin, the pig was so tense that its skin became as hard as steel. "I can't get any", I said. David was being thrashed about, the pig was screaming a long ear-piercing screech and I was fumbling for just a little piece of skin.
David finally pulled out a piece for me and I quickly jabbed it and pushed the plunger down when suddenly the needle bounced off. I quickly stuck it in again and pushed it the rest of the way. Another scream rang out, but this time it wasn't coming from the pig, but from David. "Ow!! That was me!!", he yelled, as he sat up and the pig ran off. "Uh oh", I heard Kim say from outside the pen. David was holding his hand and looking at me with a half-crazed grin that said "You did that on purpose". I realized that the first stick of the pig was actually a stick of the brother-in-law. I asked him if he was okay, but he just climbed out of the pen and started walking towards the house. Kim was checking his hand and wondering out loud if pig-wormer could be dangerous to humans.

Again Kim called the vet. I could just see his assistant telling him those crazy pig-people were on the phone again. He assured us that there was no danger to humans. Even David agreed that there was some consolation in knowing that he would be worm-free. We see him mostly at family gatherings now, and though he still does all of our heating and air work, he prefers to come over when he knows we won't be home.


I hope you enjoyed that story, I always do when I go back and read it.

With smiles,

The Winner Of The Giveaway

Now, the moment y'all've waited for all day (please excuse my tardiness):
The winner of the Autumn purse is................

Lissie Darcy!!

Congratulations Lissie!
Please leave a comment with your address (it won't be published) and I will send you the purse.

FYI: (For Y'alls Information)
I will be having another giveaway soon, maybe a purse with different fabric.
So, you all will have another chance at winning one!

Thank you to everyone who entered! I had a wonderful time reading y'alls sweet comments!

Blessings,

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

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Great is Thy faithfulness,

O God my Father;

There is no shadow of turning with Thee;

Thou changest not,

Thy compassions, they fail not;

As Thou hast been,

Thou forever will be.

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Great is Thy faithfulness

Great is Thy faithfulness

Morning by morning new mercies I see.

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;

Great is Thy faithfulness,

Lord, unto me

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Summer and winter and springtime and harvest,

Sun, moon and stars in their courses above

Join with all nature in manifold witness

To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

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Great is Thy faithfulness
Great is Thy faithfulness
Morning by morning new mercies I see.
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;
Great is Thy faithfulness,
Lord, unto me

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Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth

Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,

Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside

.:. .:. .:. .:.

Great is Thy faithfulness
Great is Thy faithfulness
Morning by morning new mercies I see.
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;
Great is Thy faithfulness,
Lord, unto me

My 100th Post & A Giveaway!

Hello all!

Well, I finally reached my 100th post, and I decided to have a giveaway!

This giveaway is for an purse/tote I made.

The pretty rustic Autumn colors are perfect for the season! It has a zippered pocket and a little snap at the top to hold it closed.

FYI:
The zipper and snap are from circa 1950's. The zipper was bought at a yard sale from an older man selling his Mother's sewing notions. We bought the whole box, which included zippers, binding, ric-rac, buttons, needles, and many other things, including a pair of motorized scissors! The snaps came from an antique store that was selling little notions. When we asked what the price was on a card of snaps, the man at the counter said price as marked. Well, the price was from the 50's! It was marked 25 cents (!).

This bag is perfect to use as a purse or as a tote to hold your crafts. The red paisley-like fabric is recycled from a dress I used to wear. The tan material has a slight burlap feel to it, giving the bag a bit of a rustic look.

To enter:

There are two ways you can enter:

1. Leave a comment.

2. Post about it on your blog and leave another comment. You are welcome to use any of the pictures.

Please leave a separate comment for each entry!

Anyone from the US or Canada can enter.

The giveaway ends on Saturday, November 7th, 12:00 PM Eastern time. I will announce the winner on the Monday after it ends.

P.S
In case you're wondering, my family and I are in Ohio on Lake Erie! The pictures were taken off the deck of the cottage where we are staying. We arrived last evening and Lord willing, are going to stay for a day or so more. Pictures are coming soon!

One Pig, errr, Big Mistake

Today I decided to share something that I ran across the other day on our old blog.

This was written by my dad several years ago.
It happened in 1999, when we were preparing for Y2K and had just rented a small farm out in Pine Mountain (location of Callaway Gardens). I was about 5-6 at the time, but I still remember it.
Anyway, I hope you get a laugh out of it, as we look back at it and laugh now. It just goes to show what some aspiring homesteaders/farmers must endure for the sake of experience. :)
Enjoy!
Note: My Mom is Kim, my Dad is Kevin, Amber is my cousin, and my Mom's brother is David, just so you don't get too mixed up. Oh, and Mike is my brother.

In 1998 we were members of a great Baptist church in Georgia. We were living in a big house with a mini-van and the all of the comforts and nuisances of sub-division life. We had always talked about having a farm one day, or even just a lot of land, but we never really knew how or when we would get there. Y2K changed all of that. A group of people within the church, led by the pastor, was seeking a large tract of land to move onto in preparation for the potential effects of the millennium bug. We decided to have our family join the group.

We never did find land as a group, but most of us did end up finding and moving onto our own mini-farms by the summer of 1999. We sold our house and rented a house and 40 acres in Pine Mountain Valley. Except for the house, it was actually a beautiful place and was what remained of a 1930s farm with pastures, a barn and a chicken coop. We spent lots of money buying books off the internet about small farms, pig raising, milk cows and more. We studied like it was a college course and actually became pretty knowledgeable, or so we thought, much like college students.
The old place had once been a hog farm and still had a pig-pen nestled in a hickory grove near the back of one pasture. The pen was about 50 feet long by 30 feet wide and still had an old hog-feeder and watering trough inside. We were set up to be in pork production if nothing else, we were just waiting for the right time to start.
The time came one hot afternoon while I was at work. Kim called me and told me that her niece knew a woman with several pigs that she wanted to get rid of for free. They were all pot-bellied pigs except for one huge Chester White sow. Amber (Kim's niece) wanted a pot-bellied piglet and we could have the sow. They were located across the river in Alabama, and Kim's brother David had agreed to come over and help me get the hog into his pickup truck and take her home for us. We met at the woman's farm around 6:00pm and the following series of events is one reason of two that David does not like to come to our house anymore.

Her hog pen was on a hillside, it was about 100 feet wide by 300 feet long with a muddy creek at the bottom and a catch-pen at the top. She supplied us with a cage to hold the sow, and so our plan was set; get the sow into the catch pen and close the door; open the other end of the pen, and into the cage she goes. Good plan. The problem is that with pigs you basically have one shot at making them do something they would not ordinarily do. After that they think you are out to murder them and they are going to get the attention of the world before they let you.
My one shot was ruined when I decided to get Amber her piglet first. The woman put out some food and all of the piggies came a runnin'. They were lined up nice and neat at the trough; I just stood behind them while Amber picked out her favorite. "Easy". I thought, just like picking out a kitten from a new litter. Not quite. Amber made her choice and I simply leaned over and picked the little black piggy up.

I thought someone had stepped on one of them by accident, but it was coming from the one that I held, a noise so loud and so shrill that it was like standing next to a broken steam whistle. When the other pigs heard it, it was like an air-raid siren that told them that they were all going to die. Pigs ran screaming at the speed of light in every direction, leaving me in a huge cloud of dust, holding the instigator. Our 7 year old son, Mike, who had climbed into the pen with me, ran to the fence, scaled it, and jumping over was shouting "Bail out!, Bail out!".
After the dust cleared I walked over to Amber and handed her the pig. In my dress clothes, covered in dirt and dust, with nary another pig in sight she just quietly said "Thanks Uncle Kevin".
David climbed into the pen and we began the task of trapping the sow. She and all of the other pigs had ended up at the bottom of the hill, trying to hide in 6 inches of mud. We figured all we had to do was run her back up the hill and come at her from each side, giving her no where to go but into the pen. We got her to the top of the hill easily enough, it was when she saw that her only option was to get into the catch pen that she decided this was not a good thing. I was confident that we were almost done, after all, where else could she go? If she tried to run between us I would just block her way, and David and I would push her back into the pen.
Hogs are funny creatures, pound for pound they are probably some of the strongest and most solidly built animals in the world. The funny thing is that they don't know it. They are totally driven by hunger and/or fear. Dirk Van Loon, who wrote a great book about pig raising, said "Nothing can totally contain a hog, they are kept in only by stupidity, so keep them stupid". Unfortunately, I had not yet read his book. Mrs. Sow indeed waited until the last second, then turned and headed into the 10 foot gap between David and I at full speed. I quickly jumped in front of her and knelt down with my arms out like a big stop sign.

Pigs can't read, nor have they ever seen a stop sign. When she hit me, it was like I had been hit by a car, she never even slowed down or swerved, just ran right over me like a freight train on a rail. After I staggered to my feet, David asked if I was alright while trying to keep from laughing. I replied yes, but I didn't mean it.
Now I was sweating and dirty. David and I walked back down to the bottom of the hill and started over. For the next 45 minutes we chased the pig up the hill, and she would run back down the hill, over and over again. The whole time we were doing this David was making comments like "You know they sell pork at the grocery store now." Finally, after an hour, I gave up, I told David that I was ready to go home. He looked at me, "No way, not after putting all of this energy into it, she's slowing down so lets try it one more time". He was right; she was getting as tired and as hot as we were.
He found a piece of plywood and we came up with a new plan. There was a wooden chute that preceded the catch pen. We would run her into the chute and trap her with the plywood. I would jump into the chute with her and move her into the pen. Once again we chased her up the hill. Holding the plywood, David backed her into the chute with ease, and for the first time we were looking at each other and smiling. Finally each edge of the wood met the edges of the chute and we had her trapped. I scaled the fence and crawled along the top of the chute. I sat there looking down at her trying to think of the best approach. I jumped down into the chute, landing directly in front of her and shouted "HA!!" She immediately turned around and ran head long into the catch pen. I ran up behind her and closed the gate.
"Done!" we both yelled. Now all we had to do was get her into the cage. We had already positioned the cage, with the door of it open, in front of the catch pen. I scaled the fence of the pen and worked my way over to the front door. She was not a happy hog, she was grunting and squealing and shaking the pen with violence. From the top of the fence I opened the gate leading into our cage, and she just stood still. My last maneuver had worked so well I decided to use it again. Jumping into the pen behind her I shouted "HA!!" Like clockwork, she bolted directly into the wooden cage...where she immediately crashed straight through the boards at the other end and was now running through the middle of the woman's front yard.
David and I looked at each other in horror. "I'm going home, I'll see you later", he said. "Oh", I said, "This is bad, real bad".
Kim and Amber were inside the house with the woman, so thankfully no-one knew that we had set her pig free but us. We now debated how long it would take to catch a hog that wasn't fenced in, while we stood, watching her grazing near the driveway. She moved from one area of the yard to another, rooting, eating and watching us with a careful eye. When she got near a small storage building she became interested in the open door. Just a few minutes before she wouldn't go through a doorway without extreme coaxing, but now she now entered this one on her own. I ran over and shut the door behind her. Looking in the windows we could see her devouring several days supply of hog feed. More importantly we could see that there was only the one door, one way in, one way out.
We brought the cage over. I quickly slipped into the room with her and found some nails and a hammer. We repaired and strengthened the cage and re-positioned it in front of the door. I went in and took some feed and tossed it into the cage. I then got behind her and (slowly and quietly this time) eased her out the door. She went into the cage after the feed and I shut the door behind her. David then went and got the truck and backed it up. He had a truck top on the back of his pickup which made it difficult to lift up the 250+ lbs of hog and cage and get it inside. We finally did, though, and shut the door to the truck top as well. This enclosure provided an extra measure of security in case she got out of her cage on the hour long drive home.
We got Kim and Amber, told the woman Thank You, and headed for home. Upon reaching the house, David drove back to our hog pen and backed up to it. We opened the truck top and then the cage door and coaxed her out. She hopped down, and into the pen, and then just kind of froze there. We watched her for a few moments, commenting on how she must be nervous in her new surroundings. David and I took the cage out and we all drove back to the house. I quickly prepared a bucket of water and walked alone back out to the pen. When I got there, I noticed that she was still standing in the same place, grunting slowly. "Hmmm", I thought as I poured the water, "weird". I filled the trough and she walked over to drink. She took a few sips, lifted her head and then dropped over, dead.

I just kind of stood there trying to think of what to do. I took the rest of the water and threw it on her, but with no effect. I walked back to the house. David was just ready to leave and Kim was thanking him for all of his hard work. She apologized for it having been such a hassle. "That's all right", he said, "At least you have your pig now". "Well", I said, entering the house, "Not really". "What do you mean"? David asked. "She's, um, dead, I think", I said. "WHAT!?", he was not pleased. I told them both about what had happened out at the pen. David mumbled something about all of the sweat and dirt and running, all just to murder a pig.

Kim got on the phone and called our local large animal veterinarian. He explained that pigs do not have sweat glands. They only keep cool through wallowing in mud, and cannot run for very long without succumbing to heat stroke. He said that all of the running combined with the long drive home in a hot enclosure had gotten our Chester White just too hot. He finished by saying, "You know, there's not many people that raise hogs around here anymore", with kind of a "and now you know why" tone.
The next day Kim took the children to her parent's house while I had the task of burying the hog. I had to load it onto a garden cart hooked to a riding lawn mower. Getting a 250 pound dead pig into a garden cart by yourself is something you have to experience to appreciate. Of course calling David for help was out of the question. I hauled the carcass way back into the woods along with a shovel. We were in a dry spell, and digging the trench in the hard red Georgia clay took over an hour. I finally dumped the hog into the hole and covered it up as best as I could.
Driving out of the woods, and looking at our empty pig pen, I was now convinced that if Y2K turned out as bad as people were predicting, with all of the farming skills I had now learned from hours of in-depth study; we were probably going to starve.

Well, obviously we survived. :)
I hope you enjoyed that peek into our past!

Beannacht do anois,

The Newest Duggar

The Duggar's first grandchild has arrived!
Praise the Lord!

We need to keep the new baby and Anna Duggar in prayer, as well as Mrs. Michelle Duggar and her unborn baby.

Blessings,

Be Thou My Vision

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;

Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.

Thou my best thought, by day or by night,

Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

.:.:.:.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;

I ever with Thee, and Thou with me, Lord;

Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;

Thou in me dwelling, and I with the Thee one.

.:.:.:.

Be Thou my battle shield, sword for the fight,

Be Thou my dignity, Thou my delight.

Thou my soul's shelter, Thou my high tower.

Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

.:.:.:.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,

Thou mine inheritence now and always;

Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,

High King of heaven, my Treasure Thou art.