Welcome my library this morning!
Did you notice yellow blooming forsythia as you drove down the driveway? One of the first promises of spring!
I suppose you saw our metal Christmas trees still displayed in the front yard. I have a good excuse this time. My young grandsons from Idaho are coming in March and I told them I would turn the lights on for them since they couldn't come for Christmas.
I met a precious lady last Sunday. “I'm 105 years old,” she stated early in our conversation. What a joy to talk with Vereah! She doesn't see or hear as well as she used to, but she's so proud of her age.
I was proud when I turned thirteen, and then sixteen. A sign over my desk at work read, “Age is just a number and mine's unlisted.” I didn't freely tell anyone my age until I turned seventy. Now it's fun to reveal my secret.
Grandson Brayden says he is excited to advance into the double digits next month.
Are you comfortable with your age?
A few of us act peculiar about telling our age. I know someone who kept her real age from her younger husband. How about the ancient people in the Old Testament? Their age became no secret. God told Moses, then Moses told everyone when he wrote the book of Genesis. Can you imagine living 969 years as Methuselah did? I suppose he finished a lot of projects in his day. He probably said, “I remember when . . .” hundreds of times.
I asked my LORD for at least another twenty years so I can write more stories and maybe even publish a book.
Happy Birthday sister! Happy Birthday CJ!
Enjoy your week and your years!
Thanks for your visit!
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