Wednesday, December 09, 2009


Paul and Mary with three great grand-sons all brothers and two identical twins belonging to grand-son Dal Austin and his wife Megan.

The stitches were removed [over thirty] this morning from my left hand and a second surgery is scheduled in a few weeks [the right hand] so my posting will remain sparse until both hands are healed. Until then receive this as my expression of love and appreciation to you all for some great conversations in the past and for those that will come in the near future the Lord willing. Until then and since is is the time for seasons greetings Mary and I say..........



Chris Ryan said...

And right back at you!

Glad the first surgery went well.

Aussie John said...


G'day mate! Pleased all is well thus far. Will continue praying.

Have a happy and blessed Christmas!

Anonymous said...
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Strider said...

Hey Paul, Just stopped by to say Merry Christmas and to let you know someone on the other side of the world is praying for your soon recovery and return to the blog world!

Scott Leonard said...

Happy Lord's Birthday, Paul and Mary. Hope you heal up real well!

I have to thank my Greek and New Testament professor in seminary, Curtis Vaughan, for turning me on to this poem years ago. God becoming a baby is such an incredible phenomenon, and these words are an attempt to express the wonder and glory of it. Read it more than once, because you won’t get all the imagery and irony the first time. Written by Richard Crashaw in the 17th century, it reminds me of Blake. If you have a better one, I want it! My gift to you. Enjoy……..

"That the great angel-blinding light should shrink
His blaze, to shine in a poor shepherd's eye;
That the unmeasured God so low should sink
As prisoner in a few poor rags to lie;
That He, milk should drink,
Who feeds with nectar Heaven's fair family;
That a vile manger his low bed should prove
Who in a throne of stars thunders above.

That He whom the sun serves, should faintly peep
Through clouds of infant flesh: that He the old
Eternal Word would be a child, and weep;
That He who made the fire should feel the cold;
That Heaven's high Majesty his court should keep
In a clay-cottage, by each blast controlled:
That Glory's self should serve our griefs and fears:
And free Eternity submit to years."
--Richard Crashaw (1612-1649)

Scott Leonard