Leaving on a Jet Plane

More accurately, I have returned . . . in a Tahoe, not a jet plane . . .

Everything went fine, thank you for asking. We sang our little hearts out. I purchased my own egg shaker and whoo-ha! There was a whole lotta shaken goin' on.

Oh! The three of us are such geeks. (No offense to Steve, of course.)

If you don't mind, I think we should have a poem today. I don't wish to talk about artificial nails, acetone polish remover and my new table.

Nope. I do not.

How Can I Keep from Singing
My life flows on in endless song:
Above earth's lamentation,
I catch the sweet, tho' far-off hymn
That hails a new creation.
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It finds an echo in my soul--
How can I keep from singing?
What tho' my joys and comfort die?
The Lord my Saviour liveth;
What tho' the darkness gather round?
Songs in the night he giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm,
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,
How can I keep from singing?
I lift my eyes; the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smooths,
Since first I learned to love it.
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing;
All things are mine since I am his--
How can I keep from singing?