Harrington House

Counting Blessings

"When upon life's billows you are tempest tossed,
  When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost...

  Are you ever burdened with a load of care?
  Does the cross seem heavy you are called to bear?...

  When you look at others with their lands and gold,
  Think that Christ has promised you His wealth untold...

  Count your blessings, name them one by one;
  Count your many blessings,
  See what God hath done."

Last summer, my aunt Sue went to Africa to visit her daughter (my cousin Becky), who was there for several months, offering her ministry at one of the schools.  Becky would send frequent emails about what all she was doing and seeing.   They have such beautiful stories of their experiences there and the wonderful people they met.  When Aunt Sue came home, she told us the people at the church had recently learned this hymn and loved it and would sing it all the time. 

I found this sign in an antique store (though, it's not old), and it made me think of a little congregation in Africa singing of their many blessings.

      

I hung it in the dining room and flanked it with this pair of black wrought iron silhouettes.  (Um, please disregard the glaring nailheads...my black Sharpie is MIA!)

Little is much when God is in it...

The Old Rugged Cross

On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,
The emblem of suff'ring and shame;
And I love that old cross where the dearest and best,
For a world of lost sinners was slain.

So I'll cherish the old rugged cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down;
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
And exchange it some day for a crown.

My Shepherd

The Lord is my shepherd.
I'll walk with Him always,
always, always.
The Lord is my shepherd.
I'll walk with Him always.

Here I Am, Lord

There's an Old, Old Path

There's an old, old path
Where the sun shines through
Life's dark storm clouds
From its home of blue.

In this old, old path made strangely sweet
By the touch divine of his blessed feet.

Find the old, old path
'Twill be ever new,
For the Savior walks
All the way with you.

In this old, old path
Are my friends most dear,
And I walk with them
With the angels near.

'Tis an old, old path
Shadowed vales between,
And I fearless walk
With the Nazarene.

In this old, old path made strangely sweet
By the touch divine of his blessed feet.