Morrisons Cove Herald - Putting cows on the front page since 1885.

By Roseann Zimmerman
Correspondent 

Old Order Mennonite Memoirs

 

January 9, 2020

"Before us lies

A new year....

... like an unopened package

... like an unread book,

... like an untrod pathway.

It is new,

and it lies in our hands

to use

to His glory

or for our pleasure.

God has placed it there;

and we are

accountable,

responsible

to Him for how we use it.

We may choose whether we will

waste its minutes

or fill them in His service.

But when it is gone

it will never return again;

we can never recall it,

It will fade on into the past;

therefore...

.... let us cherish this gift

..... let us use this year to

shape our lives for His glory.

Let us seek to be perfect

in Him.

For before us lies

A new year, never to return."

There was no name with this New Year poem and it has no rhyming words but I like it, even though I do wonder if using the new year to God's glory has to be the opposite of "our pleasure." Can't living for God's glory be a pleasure?

The last two days of the old year were mild, in fact, in Monday afternoon's sunshine, I couldn't resist to slip on my garden gloves to pull little flower seedlings from between the bricks of my garden path. Next I went to trim chickweed away from around the evergreen trees beside the lane. I picked up sticks and cleaned away dry grasses.

To celebrate the end of a good year, I tried a new recipe. It was called Plucket, actually like a pinch-me cake, I guess. I gave it to my neighbor friend when she came over for a chat. It was enjoyable to catch up with each other and our growing families.

The evening hours were spent singing with friends. We would have loved to sing 'till next year' but our voices grew tired and besides, the cows would be waiting for us in the morning.

The first day of the new year found me having a happy time with three grandchildren and their mother. We even took a walk to the foot of the mountain in the early winter sun.

Sharing breakfast at The Bistro the next day was also about friendship and fellowship, as was reading a chapter in the Rascal story to my grandchildren on Friday evening. Standing up to read helped some, to keep my eyes open but sleep wanted to steal away my story.

And although friendship and fellowship was also at the youth singing in Emory Oak Lane on Saturday evening, I'm sure they weren't sleepy. Meeting new friends from Penn Valley and both Lancaster and Union Counties was part of the evening. Supper the next night was across the field, a bit down Cove Mountain Road. Sleepiness came later.

 

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