Cast the Net Far and Wide

                         THE CASE OF THE OBSTINATE DOORMAT             “Hmmm!  Which rug will I pick?” Having just moved from a house to a tiny apartment, I thought I would place a welcoming mat inside my front door for guests.  I chose one with rich fall colours: browns, rusts and reds.  Yes, I imagined my hall in those tones, including a gilt mirror and an autumn bouquet on a shiny chestnut table.             Back at the apartment, I smilingly placed the new mat inside the door.  Ah, how cheerful!  And it would be easy to wash, should muddy shoes defile it. Errk!  I opened the door to go downstairs, and the mat got stuck. Oh, no!  Now the mat under the door had bent double and was solidly wedged in. I could not open or close the door, nor pull the mat out, nor even cut it out.  It was getting late.  “I can’t leave my door open all night!” I moaned.  “I’ll just have to phone the superintendant.”             I did not want to bother the superintendant over such a smal

                                 DIOR ORIGINALS!                                                         by  Frances  K.  Van Mil                                                                                                                                                                                         I remember my mother, a trained occupational therapist who had worked with mental patients with an eminent psychiatrist, telling me when I was a little girl that babies in the womb could hear and feel things, and even be sensitive to the emotions and moods of the mother.  She said that it was good to talk and sing to them and play soft, beautiful music. The womb, she told me, was a safe place for babies to grow physically and feel loved.  Pregnancy was supposed to be the most joyful time in a woman’s life, preferably under the protecting bond of marriage, with a happy, healthy, smiling baby the magnificent result, and the beginning of a life-long family love relationship.

THREE HOMOPHONES WHICH LEAD US HOME            by Frances K. Van Mil  Behold, a King will reign in righteousness, and princes shall rule with justice. And each one of them shall be like a hiding place from the wind and a shelter from the storm, like streams of water in a dry place, like the shade of a great rock in a weary land (to those who turn to them.   Isaiah 32:1-2  (Amp). I would really like to be living this truth in my life:  to allow Jesus my King to reign in my life, to rein and bridle my actions as He sees fit, and then to have the resulting rain of blessing, creativity and favour on my gifts and talents, so that I, too, will be a shelter and comfort to others in their times of need.  Reigning, reining, and raining!  These make up a three-legged stool, all of which must be in balance for joyful living.  There is an order, though – God’s order, which, hard as it sometimes is, is the only path which will get us there. I have recently been in a storm of