Regina Three generations crowded around a new to us piano. Rich wood, well-worn beauty. Its strings filling up the walls with music. Nana sat playing Jesus Loves Me and Nothing but the Blood , repeating them with joy. It was the best birthday gift. The exact reason I wanted a piano to come into our home, to praise.
Scripture etched out on chalkboard above. A favorite.
You crown the year with bountiful harvest. Psalm 65:11
I have loved it long and much. It has to do with the girl with curls’ name too (story for another time). I sit here now thinking about how my birthday with its gentle rains, sometimes loud, ushered in the air’s chill, fall time beauty. After the rain, lots of sun, and a wait, harvest comes.
The harvest always comes. One of our tomato plants is still heavy full of ripening tomatoes, seems like we pick a new few each day. The basil is a tree. Not kidding. Harvest. It doesn’t matter whether the land is much or little, whether your gifts are many or few…the Lord brings the growth, causes the fruit, and reveals the harvest. That’s in produce and in the lives of saints.
My mind’s eye sees the generations singing gladly, loudly. Must be a harvest of sorts… The sweet taste of praise.