My Place

T'was in a city where I was born, but there I never found a home.
My heart had known before my past, that in a city I would not last.
Could it be these feet of mine, would find the sand the place they'd pine?
Alas the beach was not the place, for that my forlorn heart would race.
Canopy of trees, shines filtered sun, a breathe of honeysuckle where I run,
T'was a hoosier I'm meant to be, with clay soil beneath my feet.
Just one acre, my little woods. But this place does suit me good.
And here I'll be a hoosier best, and live my life til time to rest.

Rebecca



Wednesday, March 13, 2013

More beauty

If you have ever lived away from home, with longing in your heart to go back...you will understand how I feel.
I think of the Israelites held in captivity. Though... I know I am not in any close relation to their suffering. But...I understand feeling like your in a foreign land. Where we live right now, is the projects. Prostitutes openly making their offerings, drug dealers talking openly on the street of their complaints because they are just the middle man and not making as much money as the big dealers.... yes even druggies have job related complaints! lol Oh the way children are talked to by the parents...or parents boy friend, then the way the children talk and behave... It's a whole different world here, than our peaceful acre in Jeffersonville.
It reminds me of the scripture
 Ezekiel 1:1-3

By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.
We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof.
For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion.
How shall we sing the LORD'S song in a strange land?









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