Basket of apples

Autumn Sunday

As September draws to a close, I can’t help but get a bit sentimental. When I was a girl, my parents would always take us kids to a wonderful cider mill. “Goodison Cider”. Even the name conjures up the smell of freshly made cinnamon doughnuts and the tangy taste of pressed Michigan apples. The mill was off the beaten path, but certainly worth the trip. It was a little bit of heaven. Those are the only doughnuts for me! Call me spoiled…

Today, I realize how fortunate I am to have those kinds of memories. Tonight as some people may be fearful or perhaps even celebrate the “blood red moon”, my heart is thankful for a God who is intimately involved in my life. His voice isn’t always loud – but it’s there if I take the time to listen.

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