Labor Day is a wonderful time of year
A Great time for a picnic and your favorite cheer.
A time to Honor those who labor every day
A time to stop and rest and take a little time to pray
Kids and adults love the festive day
It's the last Holiday of summer to vacation and play
Grilling out hot dogs, hamburgers, and all the good things
After all the festivities, a good nap it brings
When Tuesday rolls around, another Labor Day we have found
Waiting another year, working ourselves in the ground
August 4, 2022
MarkWaldrop
Just the slightest spark of light within, Breaks the chains where fears have been. A single glimmer, warm and true, Turns midnight skies to morning blue.
No shadow stands, no night can stay, When Heaven’s glow lights up the way. It floods my heart, it lifts my soul, It heals the cracks and makes me whole.
For Christ, the Light, has made it so From spark to flame, His mercies grow. And now I walk in love’s pure sight, Forever changed by that small light.
Jhn 1:5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
The Bush That Burned and Spoke (Inspired by Exodus 3:1–4)
Upon the hills where sheep would graze, Moses walked through quiet days. The desert winds, the sun’s warm light, A shepherd’s path from morn to night.
But then—strange fire caught his eye, A bush in flames beneath the sky. Yet though it burned, it was not gone, Its leaves still green, its branches strong.
He turned aside, his steps grew slow, Drawn to the mystery’s steady glow. And from the flame a voice rang clear: “Moses, Moses—come, draw near.”
The Lord had found His servant’s ear, Through holy fire that drew him near. For God will call through ways untold, To guide His own into His fold.
So when you see what stirs your soul, A whisper, wonder, burning goal— Turn aside, for it may be The Lord of Hosts is calling thee.
Exo 3:1 Now Moses was tending the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian, and he led the flock to the far side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. Exo 3:2 There the angel of the LORD appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up. Exo 3:3 So Moses thought, "I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up." Exo 3:4 When the LORD saw that he had gone over to look, God called to him from within the bush, "Moses! Moses!" And Moses said, "Here I am."
The road once stretched so wide, so far, With dreams like lanterns, each a star. We thought the dawn would never fade, That youth was gold that would not trade.
But steps once light now slow their pace, The mirror shows a different face. The milestones passed, the shadows cast, Remind us how the years have massed.
The end is closer than the start, A truth that humbles every heart. Yet closer still is mercy’s door, Where life eternal waits in store.
So number well each fleeting day, Walk in the light along the way. For though the end is drawing near, With Christ, there’s nothing left to fear.
Ecc 7:8 The end of a matter is better than its beginning, and patience is better than pride.
Saint of the Silent Key In Honor of St. Maximilian Kolbe, SP3RN
In cloistered halls where silence grew, A friar dared the airwaves through With homebuilt gear and humble hands, He sent out hope across the lands.
The year was dark, the world in fear, Yet faith went forth in voices clear. A call sign born not just in code, But truth and love his signal showed.
Then Auschwitz claimed the faithful few, But Kolbe’s heart held courage true. He took the place of one condemned, And found his crown, life’s noble end.
Now every August, hearts align, In San Max Church, a sacred sign. With dipoles high and relics near, His voice still echoes, bright and clear.
They call as 4A2MAX, With reverence in each contact. On bands that stretch the globe so wide, His legacy will not subside.
For though his mic was laid to rest, His message lives in every test. A saint who spoke through static’s song To faith, to brotherhood, belong.
So hams who tune and call CQ, Remember what one soul can do. From Morse to voice, through sky and flame, We honor still St. Kolbe’s name.
A mother wept, her heart beat wild, For Pharaoh’s law would claim her child. But in her faith, she made a way A basket bed, some hope, and hay.
She placed him gently in the reeds, And trusted God to meet their needs. The Nile flowed on, a silent prayer, While angels hovered, guarding there.
His sister watched from far yet near, Her eyes alert, her soul in fear. Would someone kind come close enough? Would fate be gentle, not so rough?
Then Pharaoh’s daughter came to bathe, And saw the child the waters gave. She heard his cry, her heart was stirred, A foreign babe—but still, her word.
“This is a Hebrew child,” she sighed. Yet not with scorn, but grace and pride. And then the sister, bold and true, Stepped forward, asking what to do.
“Shall I find a nurse to care with grace?” A mother’s love behind her face. And so, in wonder, God did weave The mother paid, her son retrieved!
She nursed him strong, she held him near, While Pharaoh’s court drew ever near. And when he grew, she let him go A prince now raised, whom God would show.
📖 Key Verse – Exodus 2:9 (NIV)
“Take this baby and nurse him for me,” the princess told the baby’s mother. “I will pay you for your help.” So the woman took her baby home and nursed him.
Down a dusty path in morning’s glow, Where golden fields and daydreams grow, A barefoot child with tousled hair Walks without hurry, without a care.
Beside him strides a swan so white, Like grace itself in morning light, And toddling close with gentle pace A plush companion, soft with grace.
No fear resides, no need to hide, The world is good, the sky is wide. No judgment passed, no bitter test, Just trust, and wonder, and time to rest.
The fence leans low, the grass bends near, The trees hum songs that only they hear. Each step a story, each laugh a hymn, Each breath a prayer, sincere and dim.
Oh, let us keep what time will steal The faith that all the world can heal. For in the heart of this sweet scene, Lies all we’ve lost—and all that’s clean.
📖 “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” – Matthew 18:3
O Lord, we lift our hearts today, For Texas families lost in dismay. Some seek the ones they cannot find Their faces etched within their mind.
Hold every heart that waits and weeps, While hope still stirs in shadows deep. Guide every search, each rescue call, And catch the tears that gently fall.
For those who mourn, whose hearts now break, Wrap them in peace that none can fake. Let comfort rise through sorrow’s storm, And love, not loss, become the norm.
We thank You for the brave and strong, The first responders who rush along Through flood or flame, through fear and night, They move with mercy, fueled by light.
So hear our prayer, both loud and still, And give this weary land Your will. Let healing come, let hope restore And bring the missing safely to the door.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18 (NIV)
