I have lived in
Indiana for three months now, but I still feel very, very new.
My home does not yet feel quite 'like home', although I love it.
I've made a few friends, but they do not yet have the richness that comes with
time. I'm not even close to having mastered my job yet, although I
really like it too. I look back over 2017, without a doubt the most
difficult year of my life, and am so grateful to be able to trace God's hand
through it.
I recently came across a quote that has become very meaningful to me; especially this Christmas season. As I was walking over a bridge, listening to the rhythm of the traffic flowing beneath me, I was reminded of this beautiful piece by John Ruskin, shared in one of my favorite devotionals Streams in the Desert.
"There is no music in a rest, but there is the making of music in it." In our whole life-melody the music is broken off here and there by "rests," and we foolishly think we have come to the end of the tune. God sends a time of forced leisure, sickness, disappointed plans, frustrated efforts, and makes a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives; and we lament that our voices must be silent, and our part missing in the music which ever goes up to the ear of the Creator. How does the musician read the "rest"? See him beat the time with unvarying count, and catch up the next note true and steady, as if no breaking place had come between.
Not without design does God write the music of our lives. Be it ours to learn the tune, and not be dismayed at the "rests." They are not to be slurred over, not to be omitted, not to destroy the melody, not to change the keynote. If we look up, God Himself will beat the time for us. With the eye on Him, we shall strike the next note full and clear. If we sadly say to ourselves, "There is no music in a 'rest,'" let us not forget "there is the making of music in it." The making of music is often a slow and painful process in this life. How patiently God works to teach us! How long He waits for us to learn the lesson! --Ruskin
One thing I do love about Indiana is being so much closer to my brother. Tim came here for Christmas, and we had a wonderful day in Chicago last Saturday, eating at the Walnut Room at Macy's, going to Millenium Park and walking the magnificent mile along Michigan Ave up to Water Tower Place. So much fun to be in Chicago at Christmastime! The rest of the weekend we relaxed at home, with a picturesque scene of falling snow outside my back door. Quite beautiful!
Now a new year is upon us, and I'm not quite sure what this girl was up to last night but she appears to have a New Year's Eve hangover. She's usually the first one up in the morning but has been lazily lounging in bed all day today! She's cracking me up. Happy New Year to all my friends and family and best wishes for a prosperous 2018!
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| The Magnificent Mile - Michigan Ave |
 |
Water Tower (one of the few structures
spared in the Great Chicago Fire) |
 |
| The Walnut Room at Macys |
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| Millenium Park |
 |
| Water Tower Building |
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| The Bean at Millenium Park |
I have lived in
Indiana for three months now, but I still feel very, very new.
My home does not yet feel quite 'like home', although I love it.
I've made a few friends, but they do not yet have the richness that comes with
time. I'm not even close to having mastered my job yet, although I
really like it too. I look back over 2017, without a doubt the most
difficult year of my life, and am so grateful to be able to trace God's hand
through it. 
"There is no music in a rest, but there is the making of music in it." In our whole life-melody the music is broken off here and there by "rests," and we foolishly think we have come to the end of the tune. God sends a time of forced leisure, sickness, disappointed plans, frustrated efforts, and makes a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives; and we lament that our voices must be silent, and our part missing in the music which ever goes up to the ear of the Creator. How does the musician read the "rest"? See him beat the time with unvarying count, and catch up the next note true and steady, as if no breaking place had come between.
