tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28138409670461268252011-08-25T21:36:57.574-07:00letters from eleacesharing stories and experiences from the road of life.ezacharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04582265411178976380noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2813840967046126825.post-8180920864532585632011-08-25T21:35:00.000-07:002011-08-25T21:35:55.962-07:00SongsWhen it's quiet here in the evenings and I find myself alone, I often retire to the piano. I try to play quietly if the kids are sleeping, but it usually doesn't stay very quiet. They're used to the piano anyway. In fact, they probably sleep better with it playing and me singing along, than if it were quiet.
So tonight, I sat down to play "Precious Savior, Dear Redeemer." It seemed to fit ezacharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04582265411178976380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2813840967046126825.post-81101069869445356332011-06-28T14:56:00.000-07:002011-06-28T21:59:17.933-07:00Not Hearers OnlyI noticed the little booklet on the floor, that it had been the canvas of one of Abbie's recent master pieces. I picked it up and began to flip through it. It had been lying on a counter for a few days, but I hadn't taken the time to read it. As I read an article in it about extreme poverty in the world, the event of the previous week began to become much more meaningful, filling in the empty ezacharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04582265411178976380noreply@blogger.com0