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While relaxing and enjoying God's beautiful creation the other day, I happened to notice some little birds pop in and out of a hole in an old dead tree stump. I was fascinated as I watched them flit here and there, constantly returning to this hidden place that I had not noticed before. The hole was so small that a predator would not be able to enter and their brown bodies blended in with the rough bark, making it a perfect place for them to live in safety. What a refuge for these otherwise helpless little creatures.

What do we do when we are faced with a difficult trial that threatens to rock our world? How does one continue on in the face of devastating circumstances?When financial difficulty, illness, death, or a strained relationship strikes, it is easy to look ahead and become overwhelmed wondering how we are going to survive the days, months, or years ahead. Such thinking is too overwhelming and can cause us to give up in complete discouragement and despair.

Dad and I went for a walk this morning through the countryside of Holmes County. We encountered many interesting sights as we passed a number of farms run by local farmers, many of whom are Amish. At one point we passed a filthy piece of equipment which Dad informed me was a "honeywagon." This was news to me because it did not look at all like it would be carrying something sweet and delicious.

Early this morning I retreated to the patio outside our room at an inn near Walnut Creek, OH. It was a cool morning and, as I sat robed in a throw blanket on the swing, I heard the birds chirping their daybreak song of praise. In the distance I could see a neat white farm embedded in the lush, green hillside with black and white dots scattering the hills surrounding it. A few howling dogs added their notes to the bird's song while the steady clip-clop of horses pulling Amish buggies added rhythm to the melody. As I pondered all the sights and sounds mingling with the sweet smell of fresh cut hay, I couldn't help thinking about the simple lifestyle of the Amish.

I remember when I was a child going on a vacation to Cape Cod with my family - grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.  Every morning all the cousins would run and jump into Grandma & Grandpa Thomson’s bed where Grandpa would tell us stories.  I can still hear him making clucking noises in the back of his throat as he told the story of the young girl who had a little red hen for a pet.  She loved that hen and experienced great delight in watching and caring for her.  She was so pleased when one day Henny's eggs hatched and produced eight fluffy yellow chicks.  She greatly enjoyed watching them scurry around the yard searching for bugs and cracked corn.

It was a perfect day weather wise. The sun was warm, but not too hot. The flowers and deep green foliage were blooming on either side of the dirt road that led from Capernum to Cana in Galilee. Here and there a few travelers could be seen returning home from Jerusalem after celebrating the Passover feast. Their laughter and bantering rang out as they reminisced over their recent memories of the yearly holiday. But one well-dressed man traveling along hardly noticed. His face was set in grim lines and he plodded on as if intent on an urgent purpose.