My Dad left early this morning. We'd had almost half an inch of rain overnight, and leaving in the pre-dawn dark I was concerned that I would get stuck in the mud as I backed up the driveway.
The Lord spared us that—barely. I came within inches of hitting the fence (I literally have never done that before), did get stuck in a ditch for a few seconds, but got unstuck. I was so thankful not to make Phil come and tow me out. Dad would have missed his flight.
Driving home in the new day, I smiled to see that the redbuds had opened. During the almost two weeks Dad was here, we kept anticipating their opening, but he missed them, by just hours.
Phil and I caught up on office work. I read a lot to the boys. We all took naps. It was a quiet day.
Since there isn't much to say about the farm, I'll close with a verse we've memorized recently, Colossians 3:14.
And above all these things put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness.
I like that definition of charity, or love. The bond of perfectness. The perfect bond. The perfect connection, the strongest glue.
I can see that sometimes I have charity toward the farm and animals, toward my family. And sometimes my bond is imperfect. So I seek to put on charity.
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