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POTW: explain your favorite line of your favorite book.
Here's my favorite quote from my favorite Book:

Exodus 20:8 KJV
Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.

And here's why it's my favorite quote. The first word of this quote is "Remember." Why did this Author say, "Remember?" Could it be because He, looking down through the pages of eternity, knew that His children would forget? I believe He did.

What did they forget? "The sabbath day." What is the sabbath day? We have to read the context to find out.

Exodus 20:9-11 KJV
Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work: [10] But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates: [11] For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it.

Oh. The sabbath is the seventh day. Well, let's look on a calendar and see when that is.

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The first day of the week is Sunday. Scripturally we know this is correct because in all four gospels we are told that Jesus rose from the tomb "very early in the morning on the FIRST day of the week,"* and we all know that day as "Easter SUNDAY" (although "Easter" is actually a pagan name so some of us prefer to call it Resurrection Day). Clearly, then, if Sunday is the first day of the week, Saturday is the seventh. The seventh day of the week, according to the Commandment, is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God. Why? Because He blessed it, sanctified it, and made it holy at creation, as a memorial forever of His creative power.

This line, from this book, is my favorite, because it reminds me of Who God is. He is the Creator of all that exists. And He is the Loving Lord of my life, Who asks me to celebrate that amazing fact with Him every seventh day, by setting aside all the "busy-ness" of the world and resting in Him.

ETA: * Mett. 28:1, 6; Mark 16:2,6, 9; Luke 24:1, 6; John 20:1, 16.
 
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What I'm thankful for.

Fifteen years ago my future was very uncertain. My husband had died and left me with practically nothing. I had no income, no savings, no resources. I was of an age no one wanted to hire. My brother and his wife did not want me because I smoked. Then my elderly aunt fell and broke her wrist, and asked me to come and stay with her in Arizona, to help her. I did, but that was a temporary situation. I did not know what I would do next but I trusted God. Then a man I'd been in touch with through Adventist Singles had a suggestion. Why didn't I come to Missouri and live with him and his elderly mother? I could be a help to her as I had been to my aunt, he would pay me a modest wage, and I could look for work in his area.

Well, nothing else was opening up for me, so ... I accepted. It seemed the only door the Lord was opening up for me. I would have a room of my own, of course. And there'd be no hanky-panky, as he was the elder of his church. I'd been doing live-in care-giving for several years already, so this was something I was comfortable with.

Well, to cut to the chase ... we were married four months later. And within another year we had custody of two of my grandchildren, who still live with us, 15 years later.

So I'm thankful God has a plan, even in our scariest, most desperate moments, when we have nothing and don't know where to turn. If we trust Him, He will lead us to our best life. He has said,

"I will never leave you nor forsake you."
 
I was in need of a rooster and had heard of a neighbor who had a nice bachelor flock. I called them up and requested one.

"Sure," they said, "come on over and pick one out. We have 15 to pick from."

"Actually," I said, "I'd prefer you pick one out for me. All I ask is you choose one that won't attack me. I just got rid of one like that."

"Sure, no problem. We'll be over in a bit."

A little later, the husband came over in a red pickup with a dog crate in the back. In the crate was a handsome orange rooster. The man set the crate on the ground, opened it and let the rooster out. The bird looked around, flapped his wings and crowed. "I guess he'll do," I said.

"You try him out," the man said. "If he doesn't work out give us a call and we'll try a different one."

"Okay, sounds good," I said, and we shook hands and he drove away.

I stood there looking at the latest addition to my flock. "Okay, so what should I call you? What's your name?" I asked him. He strutted around a bit, then crowed again. He looked mostly like a Buff Orpington except he had a rose comb rather than a big single one.

"Ah, my name is Rojo el Magnifico," he seemed to say, puffing out his chest with pride.

"Really!" I replied. "So, Big Red, eh?"

He fluffed his feathers in indignation.

"No, no, no!," He shook his head and walked away. "I am ROJO el MAGNIFICO!"

I sighed. "Okay fine. I will call you Rojo," pronouncing it Ro-ho in the Spanish way, as he had. "But I just have one question."

He turned and looked at me, stretching a leg and a wing toward me. "And that is - ?"

"Where did you get the accent?"

He shook himself all over, not deigning to respond, and stalked off in search of hens.
 

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