New State, New School Year

Since my last post we have moved 1,000 miles from our home in Blue Ridge foothills to Oklahoma. Our new state is very homeschool friendly. Although it has been very difficult to make new homeschool connections here.

The folks here are kind. They have great southern hospitality.

It has been very hot this summer. So hot in fact that records have been set. I usually love summer, but this year I am looking forward to fall and cooler temps.

Our school year has started. (I'll post later about our curriculum choices.) So far, so good. There have been some tweaks. By now I should know what will and won't work with my boys, but sometimes the grass looks greener...

I miss home. I miss the mountains. I miss fried fish and red hot dogs. Yeah, I know neither is good for me! I miss family too. I miss familiarity. That said, I am learning that This is My Father's World. No matter where I am I am still very much in His care and I have in Him all that I need!

This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears
All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;
His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;
He speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world: the battle is not done:
Jesus Who died shall be satisfied,
And earth and Heav’n be one.

This is my Father’s world, dreaming, I see His face.
I ope my eyes, and in glad surprise cry, “The Lord is in this place.”
This is my Father’s world, from the shining courts above,
The Beloved One, His Only Son,
Came—a pledge of deathless love.

This is my Father’s world, should my heart be ever sad?
The lord is King—let the heavens ring. God reigns—let the earth be glad.
This is my Father’s world. Now closer to Heaven bound,
For dear to God is the earth Christ trod.
No place but is holy ground.

This is my Father’s world. I walk a desert lone.
In a bush ablaze to my wondering gaze God makes His glory known.
This is my Father’s world, a wanderer I may roam
Whate’er my lot, it matters not,
My heart is still at home.

Words: Malt­bie D. Bab­cock

Ar­ranged by Frank­lin L. Shep­pard