'When a blanket wraps the day,
When the rotton woodland drips,
And the leaf is stamped in clay.'

Let a man be naturally as blithe as a bird, he will hardly be able to bear up year after year against such a suicidal process; he will make his study a prison and his books the warders of a gaol, while nature lies outside his window calling him to health and beckoning him to joy.  He who forgets the humming of the bees among the heather, the cooing of the wind among the pines, needs not wonder if his heart forgets to sing and his soul grows heavy. A day's breathing of fresh air upon the hills, or a few hours ramble in the beech woods' unbrageous calm, would sweep the cobwebs out of the brain of scores of our toiling ministers who are not but half alive.  A mouthful of sea air, or a stiff walk in the wind's face, would not give grace to the soul, but it would yield oxygen to the body, which is next best.

'Heavies the heart is in a heavy air,
Ev'ry wind that rises blows away despair.'

The ferns and the rabbits, the streams and the routs, the fir trees and the squirrels, the primroses and the violets, the farm-yard, the new-mown hay, and the fragrant hops - these are the best medicine...(unless of course you are allergic to them - parenthesis mine)...the surest tonics for the declining, the best refreshments for the weary.  For lack of oppportunity, or inclination, these great remedies are neglected, and the student becomes a self-immolated victim." -- Spurgeon


So now, Lord, here I am at the creek again enjoying a bit of Your medicine". My heart rejoices as I look up at the big, bright sun peeking through the trees as the wind gently blows the weeds along the bank and the cicada sing their song at high pitch.  This must mean that it's going to be another HOT day.  Yes it's the "time of the butterflies" - little ones fluttering here and there along the dry creekbed, and oh, here comes a big yellow and black swallowtail.  He stops to feed on the carrion there where the water used to flow, and this reminds me of the eight or nine I saw the other day, all huddled in one spot.  It was an amazing sight to see!  And now, Lord, as I walk down the creekbed, You bring along this frantic little butterflly who flies around and around and around me so fast that I can hardly see the little thing.  Presently he lights on me - again...and then again and again... about five or six times.  Finally, he sits on my hand as I write, and as he touches me with his little probiscus, I notice on the underside of his wings the intricate dark brown spots surrounded with light brown rings and white dots in the centers.  When he opens his wings from time to time, I revel in the beauty of his orange-brown bottom wings with dark brown spots and dark brown upper wings with the white spots. (Later I realize he looks somewhat like a mountain emperor minus the yellow spots.) Lord, what does this mean?  I have never had a butterfly stay so long!  He's been here on my hands for about ten minutes or more?! I move my hands back and forth and turn around so that I can look right into his eyes, and he doesn't fly away!  That little probiscus just keeps moving!  Lord, this is amazing!  Surely it must be a "sign", a special evidence of Your love for me!...Oh, here come my two little girls running to find me and join in my creekbed "joys".  I caution them to be quiet, and the little butterfly stays around long enough for them to look him in the eyes aned even touch him. Now the girls are off chasing another Swallowtail species -  yellow with lower markings of blue and orange.  Back and forth, up and down the creekbed they run until they are distracted with the beauty of the brown butterfly with "special" orange markings.  Soon they catch a tiny heart-shaped one, and up to the house they go to put him in a jar and savor his "friendship" for a little while.

Lord, this bit of "medicine" - this trip to the creek this morning - has been SO special!  Your words to me this morning were from: