Hope Scribbles

love like stars and acorns


“Come, soul, I bid thee now exercise thy wings a little, and see if this does not make thee love God. He thought of thee before thou hadst a being. When as yet the sun and the moon were not – when the sun, the moon, and the stars slept in the mind of God, like unborn forests in an acorn cup, when the old sea was not yet born, long ere this infant world lay in its swaddling bands of mist, then God had inscribed thy name upon the heart and upon the hands of Christ indelibly, to remain for ever. And does not this make thee love God?”

{Charles Haddon Spurgeon}

when “to blog or not to blog” is the question


I’ve been a terrible blogger this year. I suppose I might do a lot of blogging between now and the end of the year but I doubt it somehow. For some reason 2014 doesn’t really seem to be a blogging sort of year.

It’s not, of course, that I’m not busy living. That might, in fact, be the problem. I’m too busy living to blog. I work. And then I read and make bread and play the piano. And when I DO have a moment of quiet to blog, well, I realise that I don’t want to blog my life for all the world (represented by the thirteen people who visited Hope Scribbles the other day – thank you for coming!) to read.

One of the things I’m busy doing while living, however, is writing. I’m not ready to share all the details yet but I think I CAN tell you that there’s a short novel and a book of short stories scheduled for release in 2015.

Watch this space for more details soon!

hope thou ever

It’s been a bit of a week. Nothing bad has happened. Lots of good things have happened. Hallelujah! And in the midst of it all – the sad tears and the happy tears and the secret wondering where God is to now and whether He really, truly, cross-His-heart cares – I read this …


“Knowest thou not that day follows night, that flood comes after ebb, that spring and summer succeed winter? Hope thou then! Hope thou ever! For God fails thee not. Dost thou not know that thy God loves thee in the midst of all this? Mountains, when in darkness hidden, are as real as in day, and God’s love is as true to thee now as it was in thy brightest moments.”

(Charles Haddon Spurgeon)


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