From Jennifer L. Holberg
Sarina Gruver Moore teaches English at Calvin College. Her wedding china is Wedgewood, "India" pattern (because what else would a Victorianist have?).
God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy habitation of the Most High.
My house felt holy yesterday.
All day long we had little friends visiting us for a play date while their parents worked to paint their new house and pack up their old house. My boys are kind of at the end of their summertime good humor (or maybe I am), and believe it or not, adding two more kids to the mix gave everybody a boost of cheerfulness.
Five happy children make for a surprisingly quiet house, so all day long I wore an apron and cooked and puttered in the kitchen and listened to podcasts on food. At dinnertime, our adult houseguests returned from the conference they are attending this week at Calvin. Ron is one of my oldest friends—we’ve known each other since we were ten—and Chris is a new friend I met just a day ago but who already feels like a part of the extended family.
While Ron and I talked in the kitchen, Chris sat down at the piano. “Oh!” I apologized. “It needs to be tuned, and it’s missing two black keys where the kids have broken them off.”
Reader, that piano has never sounded better.