My days, like yours I'm sure, are full of activities. I look forward every day to my quite time. Sometimes its when I stand in front of the kitchen sink and wash dishes; after all no one wants to help dad with the dishes, so I stand there alone . . . well not really alone, its one of my Christ-with-me times.
Thinking of this reminded me of a poem, "A Marvelous Hour" by the Breton poet Anjela Duval (1905-1981). Here it is:
The day is now over.
The hour's come I was waiting for.
After labour so material,
How sweet a spiritual hour.
I'm bathed here in tranquillity.
I hear no sound around me.
But the sound of the pendulum,
Counting out the drops of time.
The hour of prayer, hour of study.
Hour of dreaming, of fantasy,
Hour divine, full of ecstasy.
In this hour there's so much happiness!
Only one thing's missing to perfect it:
--In the hearth the singing of a cricket! . . .
I hope that you are able to find your daily marvelous hour.
May God hold you in the palm of His hand,
Bro. Dave
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