Archive for February 18th, 2021



Written by Valerie Weaver.

Thirty-six years ago, our daughter Karen was a preschool student at the Village Church. Small for her age, most referred to her as “little Karen” and many also described her as the tiny girl with a big heart. She loved animals of all sorts and was invariably kind to everyone she knew or met. We loved her, of course, because she was a treasured member of our family, but she once taught me a lesson that brough me to my knees in awe of her childish wisdom and grace.

We were with my husband who was attending a legal conference that also had several current Supreme Court Justices as attendees. Our hotel had beautiful grounds and garden paths. Walking one morning, Karen and I came upon a baby bird, too young to fly, who had died falling from its nest. Karen immediately knelt down to pray. Just then, some Secret Service approached and sternly told us to clear the path for the Justices to pass. Tiny Karen looked up at those imposing, serious men and said, “This bird needs to go to heaven, it didn’t get a chance to fly. If God has time to listen, you will just have to wait.” The stern men broke into smiles, stepped back and asked her softly to tell them when she had finished. I have never forgotten that simple, wonderful truth. God always has time to hear our prayers. Everything else can just wait.


Written by Peter Marshall (1902-1949) was a Scots-American preacher, pastor of the New York Presbyterian Church in Washington DC and was appointed as chaplain of the US Senate.

Father, I am beginning to know how much I miss when I fail to talk to you in prayer, and through prayer to receive into my life the strength and the guidance which only you can give. Forgive me for the pride and the presumption that make me continue to struggle to manage my own affairs to the exhaustion of my body, the weariness of my mind, the trial of my faith. In a moment like this I know that you could have worked your good in me with so little strain, with so little effort. And then to you would have been given the praise and the glory. When I neglect to pray, mine is the loss. Forgive me, Lord. Amen.


What a Friend We Have in Jesus: Alan Jackson. This hymn was written as a poem by Joseph Scriven in 1855 to his mother who lived in Ireland while he was in Canada.

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