This is my granddog, Cora. Witnessing this ritual (one of many in her repertoire) never ceases to make me chuckle and today it reminded me of Doc Slenn stating that the English Mastif breed was most like a child. This soothing practice of hers set my mind to ponder that comfort is a basic need that dogs and mankind share.

During an episode of Downton Abbey I heard the Lady Violet proclaim the first two lines of the hymn, God Moves in a Mysterious Way, by William Cowper. I think it makes me feel a bit like Cora does, gently gliding along the leaves, round and round, slowly, and ever so lightly.

God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sov’reign will.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flow’r.
Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.


About found4sure

I like to write. I think too much!
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