Sandra Byrd's Blog, page 2

Life of Tudor Women, Part Three

Tudor Women and Fashion Rules It’s hard to imagine being told what fabrics and colors you could wear, isn’t it? Sumptuary Laws in place during Tudor times regulated the wearing of rich fabrics to the upper classes, the number of meal courses to be served for specific guests, and the purchases of luxuries allowed for each social class. Henry VIII, in particular, was concerned about the rise of the wealthy merchant class, which had no connection to nobility, so he revived and expanded the restrictions on clothing and other expenditures. For example, only members of the royalty were allowed to wear ermine, and only the nobility was allowed to wear clothing trimmed in fox or otter. Anne Boleyn was known for her stylish attire; she had it early and further developed it while in France. She brought French sophistication back to the English court and was known especially for her French hoods and for adding a small but different accessory to her wardrobe each day, which was always fresh.

Tudor Women as Mothers Children were treasured in Tudor times as they are today. A woman would probably have had a child every one to two years. Many women died in childbirth due to poor medical hygiene, and the chance at least one of their children would die was significant. Consider that Catherine of Aragon is reported to have been pregnant at least six times but had only one son who lived just a few days and one surviving daughter, Mary. Anne Boleyn was pregnant at least three times, but only Elizabeth survived. Katherine Parr and Jane Seymour each bore one child, and both women died of childbed fever. Neither the high-born nor the low-born were spared the grief of frequent miscarriages or stillborn children.

For women of the noble class, giving birth would have been a social event attended by the mother’s closest friends and a midwife arranged ahead of time. Doctors rarely attended births. Puerperal sepsis, or ‘childbed fever,’ was common as handwashing was seldom practiced (by midwives or doctors.) A contemporary study for the UK’s National Institute for Health estimates the maternal death rate in the 16th century as 26 women per every 1,000 births. Compared to today’s figure in the UK of .11 per 1,000 women dying as a result of childbirth, you can see that childbirth was a hazardous undertaking in Tudor times!

Tudor Women and Social Relationships Within the social structure of Tudor times, loyalty to family, especially family of origin, took precedence. For women of noble birth, that meant that advancing the social position of their families was their primary function. Often, Anne Boleyn is seen as having been “pushed” toward marriage to Henry by a socially climbing family. All families were social climbers, and Thomas Boleyn was no different than other good men before and after in seeking to advance his house, often to disastrous consequences, but sometimes, to love. Betrothals and marriages, the ability to produce an heir, and their connections as ladies-in-waiting to more highly-ranked nobles would have motivated the decisions made by and for noble women of this era.

The relationships they formed within noble circles would have been based on similar personalities and interests and the other person’s ability to help them advance their family’s interests. It was common for young women in noble families to leave their families for extended periods to serve in court. One type of close relationship familiar to women of noble households was with long-time servants who served not only as employees but also as confidantes and go-betweens with others in the household. This is clearly seen in Meg Wyatt’s friendship with her longtime lady’s maid, Edithe.

Life of Tudor Women, Part One

Life of Tudor Women, Part Two

Research Sources: Coventry.ac.uk; Elizabethan-era.org.uk; elizabethi.org; TudorsWiki; LocalHistories.org; NIH.gov

Main photo credit: Walker Art Gallery, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Lace Makers

India has always been a place of tremendous creative expression, whether articulated through color, cuisine, music, poetry, or fine arts - even through the delicate and intricate patterns of henna (mehndi) application. English lacemaking was a new art introduced by missionary Martha Mault in 1821. Her goal in teaching that art was to provide income to young, lower-caste women who had no other means to lift themselves and their families out of poverty.  According to Indian author Joy Gnanadason's book, A Forgotten History, Mault also taught this craft to the slave girls to give them the means to buy back their freedom. She lived James 2:16: "If one of you says to them, 'Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,' but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?"

Martha Mault was from Honiton, an area in East Devon.  The Allhallows Museum of Lace in Devon recounts that lace making, which had probably spread from Italy throughout Europe, has been recorded in the area from the 17th century, perhaps earlier. Wives of men who were paid low wages, men who fished or labored for a living, often made the lace to supplement their family's income.  The museum explains that making one square centimeter of lace can take up to five hours; perhaps thousands of hours were required for a lace handkerchief or collar.

Queen Victoria

Honiton lace became very popular when Queen Victoria selected it to adorn her wedding gown. However, she was not the first royal to be married in white; she was the most popular and was married in the age of photography. The tradition of white wedding gowns adorned with lace persists to this day.

Missionaries

Victorian missionary to India Samuel Mateer recorded that "Lacemaking, introduced by Mrs. Mault in her boarding school at Nagercoil... has succeeded to perfection. Admirable specimens of fine pillow lace, in cotton and gold and silver thread, manufactured at the Mission school, were shown at Madras and in the great London and Paris Exhibitions, in all of which they gained prize medals... A suggestion has recently been made that it might be more profitable, instead of merely copying and repeating, as has hitherto been done, the old standard English patterns and styles, to get up real Indian designs in accordance with the purest national taste and styles of art, to establish the Nagercoil lace as a purely indigenous production."

Self-Expression

Profitable, as he used it in the era, did not simply mean that it would make more money.  It meant beneficial. It was a nod to her progressive nature that Mault encouraged the girls to adapt English methods to their native designs and tastes; they were not to be transformed into English lace-makers but taught to make lace in a manner that could express their own heritage and culture.  The Maults and other missionaries networked through the British communities to ensure a healthy market for the lace goods.

Gnanadason concludes, "There are thousands of women in their homes doing lace and embroidery as a cottage industry in all the villages of Kanyakumari District and other areas of the old L.M.S. in Nagercoil, Neyyoor, Marthandam, Parasalai, Trivandrum, Attingul, and Quilon. There are established Mission Centers which give out the work, receive them, and pay the women. The proceeds of these have gone into the building of Churches, Schools, Hospitals, and Colleges, besides supporting work among women. The work offers a means to thousands of women who cannot be otherwise employed to subsidize their family income."

{Mehndi photo credit: Public Domain, Photo by Ravi Sharma on Unsplash}

{Lace photo credit: Sabine Baring-Gould – File:A book of the west; being an introduction to Devon and Cornwall.djvu, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=23882306}

{Queen Victoria photo credit: Franz Xaver Winterhalter [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons}

Tokens and Treasures

Even as children, we are collectors: of pretty things, of tender hearts, of secret hopes and dreams.

When I was a young girl, my grandmother and I sometimes wandered around the empty elementary school playground across the street from her house on a summer’s afternoon, hand-in-hand.  Heads down, we sought bits of smooth sea glass tossed among the rougher gray rocks used as ground cover. Once spotted, I’d deposit the pretty pebbles one by colorful one into the washed baby food jar which she’d brought along to protect and keep them.

On the way back to the house, I’d hold the jar up to catch the fading afternoon sun, wanting to capture and keep it, and our time together, too. Later, I graduated to collecting chunky agates from the shore of Lake Superior, stones the color of iron-rich blood and shot through with black and blue veins so that, when polished, they looked like nothing so much as slick hunks of liver.  They remind me of the town in which I was born.

Why do we collect, and what is it that we find worthy of gathering and saving?

Sometimes we collect items that are very costly – pieces of jewelry, or art.  Mostly, I think, we collect tokens, physical representations of personal connection and emotional resonance. Our tokens are our treasures and remind us of someone or something we love, of wishes, of memories we don’t want to lose.  When my daughter grew up and moved out, she took one of my empty perfume bottles with her so that, when she was lonely, she could hold it to her nose, close her eyes, and remember home.  You’ll find something very like that in Lady of a Thousand Treasures.

Not only do my collections end up in my books, like many of you, I also collect the books themselves. Perhaps collect isn’t the right word – hoard, stockpile, showcase, defend, and about which I become territorial might be better descriptions.  The books I collect remind me of the years when I read them, after lights out in a blanket-tent in bed with a flashlight, sneaking in extra reading hours, or as a young adult escaping angst, or a grown woman stealing an hour of pleasure.

The first royalty check I earned on my own published works was spent at Powell’s bookstore in Portland, Oregon. I purchased hardback, dust-covered copies of the first edition of the Little House on the Prairie books which had been illustrated by Gareth Williams. I placed them in a glass-protected barrister’s bookcase, right next to my childhood paperback copies—edges yellowed and thin, frayed like old parchment, inside flaps claimed by a scrawled, “Sandie’s.” They remind me still of all I love in books, and why I have given my life to writing them.  When I met my husband and he told me he’d saved the Sugar Creek Gang and Louis L’Amour books from his childhood, I knew we had a future together.

As a child, I would pick up a penny when I saw one lying on the ground and then I’d save it; that habit followed me into adulthood. As a child, I hoped it would bring me luck. As an adult, I took comfort in the reminder, embossed right into the metal, that “In God We Trust.” Happy to reach for a dropped penny at any time, they were especially welcome when I was fearful, anxious, or down.  “In God I trust,” I whispered to myself as I tucked it into a pocket or purse.  I think that’s one reason that – aside from books – I favor small collectibles. I can take them with me. They are portable prizes. I collect them in penny collector’s books, now; the sheer number of them suggests the many occasions God has used them to recall his constancy during times of strength and times of fragility.

A loved one's recent bout with cancer proved just how fragile are the lives of those I love. And yet, those lives are firmly held in the hands of one who loves them and also loves me. The Lord walks hand-in-hand with me, like my grandmother did, collecting treasures with me and then helping me protect them. To remind myself of that, I sourced and purchased uncirculated pennies minted in the year that each of us was born: my husband, myself, my son, my daughter, and my son-in-law. When my son marries, I will add her birth year penny, too.

I keep them close to me – the beloveds and the pennies – to remind myself that God created them in a certain year. He has them in his eye with more affection and oversight even than the sparrows. In God We Trust. I trust you, Lord. Those portable pennies are tucked into a drawer in my office and sometimes carried in a pouch in my purse, close at hand when my loved ones cannot be.

What do you collect, cherish, display, or tuck away? Whatever it is, you can be sure that your treasures whisper truths about you. As Matthew 6:21 reminds us, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be, also.”

All photos © Sandra Byrd.

A Time Traveler's Treasures

I love to travel to many places, but I also love to travel to many times, eras out of reach for a visit except through literature and film. I choose to write historical novels because, through them, we can time-and-place travel together, you and me.Journeying through books has limitations, though; we must use only our imaginations. But we are sensory people, and that is why I think objects from the past—treasures, as Ellie, my heroine in Lady of a Thousand Treasures, understands—have such a pull on us. We touch something that a real person, with hopes and dreams much like our own, touched dozens or hundreds of years earlier, and suddenly the centuries between us disappear.I have a friend—let’s call her my friend of a thousand treasures—who works as an antiquarian, and she owns many such treasures. She is willing to share some of her trove with me, and so I can share some of her prizes with you.

Ladies’ Porcelain Patch Box

In the ages before smallpox was scourged from the earth, women sought—as they do now—to minimize their scars and blemishes with cosmetics. One tool was the use of beauty marks, small rounds (or sometimes hearts) of black fabric affixed to the face with glue or honey, covering an unsightly spot in a flirtatious manner. After the patches were removed, at the woman’s toilette, she would save them in lovely porcelain “patch boxes.”

Buckingham Palace Dinner Plate, Queen Victoria’s Reign 

Although it’s fun to handle and hold something once owned by a commoner such as myself, it’s even more awe-inspiring to hold something that might have been touched by royalty and was certainly used by the nobility. This plate, created by Minton, was part of an extensive set that graced the table of Queen Victoria. Who held it? Whose meal was presented upon it? What would have happened to a wash girl if she’d dropped it? If I close my eyes when I hold this plate, I can imagine myself both eating at the beeswax candlelit table and washing the plate, below stairs, by tallow candlelight, too.One interesting fact about the Minton company is not as well known. It was rumored that Prince Albert himself was secretly among those who helped design their tiles. Perhaps that is one reason Her Majesty chose their wares to grace her table.

Nutmeg Grater

Although in modern times acquiring fragrant spices is as easy as reaching for a container on the grocery store shelf, it was not always that way. When England, via their East India Company, began transporting spices from east to west, those spices were dear, indeed. As such, they became not only a way to flavor food and drink, but they were a status symbol of sorts. Men would carry a portable nutmeg grater with them, and after acquiring a cup of punch for themselves or their dance partner, they grated some of the aromatic powder atop the filled glass, where it floated as a symbol of wealth and affection.

I hope you’ve enjoyed these historical tidbits. If so, please journey with me to Victorian England and the many treasures to be found in my new novel, Lady of a Thousand Treasures.

Photos © Sandra Byrd.

The Salvation Army and Child Trafficking in the Victorian Era

There were hundreds, perhaps thousands of organizations intent on doing good for others in the Victorian Era; it’s heartening, and perhaps a little convicting, to see how many people were dedicated to lifting the misery of others. In this book, though, I focused not only on the Theatrical Mission (which really did exist!) but drew inspiration from the Salvation Army, a vibrant organization for good in London and, eventually, the entire world. All the best parts of the ministries of The Cause, in this book, were inspired by the work of the Salvation Army, a powerful tour de force for good in Victorian England. The news clippings I had Gillian read from her mother’s scrapbooks were nearly exactly reproduced from actual clippings about the Salvation Army during the mid- to late- nineteenth century.

The Salvation Army was founded in 1865 by William Booth and his wife, Catherine. Both William and his wife Catherine preached, though William generally reached out to the poor and undesirables they felt led to minister to, including prostitutes, alcoholics and morphine addicts, and the destitute, and Catherine raised funds from the wealthy. Their many children eventually joined them in ministry, and one son, Bramwell, was drawn to the cause of the exploitation of children. From the Salvation Army’s website:

"The law, as it stood in the early 1880s, said that a girl of thirteen was legally competent to consent to her own seduction. Girls under the age of eight were not allowed to give evidence against those who had abused them, as it was thought that they were too young to understand the oath. Josephine Butler, a campaigner for women's rights, wrote a letter to Florence Booth, the wife of The Salvation Army's Chief of the Staff, Bramwell Booth, concerning the sale of young girls into prostitution. We have this letter and other correspondence relating to the case, including letters written by Catherine Booth, The Army Mother, to Queen Victoria.

Florence Booth, as pioneer leader of the Army's Women’s Social Work, had gained an insight into the lives of girls working as prostitutes. Through this work, the practice of trafficking girls to be used for immoral purposes, both in Britain and overseas, came to the attention of The Salvation Army. Bramwell Booth had walked the streets of London, seeing for himself the desperate situations that many of the young girls found themselves in. What he saw prompted him to speak with W. T. Stead, Editor of the Pall Mall Gazette.

Stead was an admirer of The Salvation Army and was horrified to think that young girls were being bought and sold. He investigated the claims made by The Salvation Army and published his findings in the Pall Mall Gazette, 6-10 July 1885. The articles appeared under the title, ‘The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon’, and Stead received much support. On 14 August 1885, the Criminal Law Amendment Act became law, raising the age of consent from thirteen to sixteen years.”

Stead has been said to have been heavily influenced by his mother, an early crusader for the proper treatment of all women, including prostitutes. Sadly, after helping women and children into lifeboats and giving away his life jacket, Mr. Stead was among the victims of the sinking of the Titanic; his valor persisted till the end of his days.

Main photo: By William Booth - Cornell University: Persuasive Cartography: The PJ Mode Collection, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44963597

Pennies from Heaven

Like many of you, I grew up hearing the little chant “See a penny, pick it up, all day long you’ll have good luck.” I did pick up pennies then, even when I was a little kid, tucking them into my pockets where they were soon forgotten.

When I became a Christian and came to understand that there is no “luck,” but there is the will of a loving, sovereign God, I did not give up my penny-pinching, penny-picking-up habits. If anything, they increased! American pennies, thankfully, still include the words “In God We Trust.” Each time I plucked a penny from the floor of a grocery store, or the wet pavement outside of my car, it reminded me In Whom I Trusted. I’d spend my days praying, and he’d respond in my heart and mind, through the Word or worship music or sometimes . . . with a delightful glint of copper. Call me crazy, but it signaled to me that he was paying attention. “The Lord has remembered us; he will bless us” (Psalm 115:12, ESV).

How happy I am that I had not selected found quarters as an affectionate nod from the Lord—when people drop a quarter, they stop to pick it up regardless of luck! A gentle nudge to my heart taught me that yes, when you look for only big blessings, large interventions, significant and positive changes in circumstance, you miss most of the blessings. Most blessings are small, things that we and others might even forget or overlook, like a dropped penny.

A close-in parking spot on a wet day. A friend who asks you to walk with her. A new recipe. A chance for renewed health. A fine waived. A child’s enthusiasm. I began to open my eyes, not for pennies, but for the small blessings that God dropped into my days, nearly every day, to speak my love language, the one that says, “I am here. I have remembered you. I will bless you.”

The big gifts, rare as they may be, are from him. But so are the small ones, and if I look for them, I will see them all around me, all the time, as a constant reminder of his love.

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.  James 1:17

From my book, Experiencing God’s Love: A Year of Abundance Devotional.

Photo © Chris Briggs, Unsplash.

Renewal

Just like flowers, we, too, have dormant periods. Is this a cold season for you? Hold on. Rest in the Lord, in Whom we plant hope. Spring is on the way.

Photo used with purchase permission from Shutterstock.

Every year, come September, I finish watering and feeding my plants. After that, the rain takes care of the maintenance watering, and the plants shouldn’t need to eat again till they start a new growth period in early spring. Autumn and winter are periods of dormancy for garden plants. They don’t grow taller, fuller, or develop leaves or blossoms. Instead, with what energy they do have, they push their roots deeper and wider. Or they sleep.

Dormancy is a tough season for plants to live through, which is why they draw inward. The weather is colder and windier, and they have less protection. There is little sun to bless their branches and lots of ice to curse them. It’s when they put their heads down and bear things out.

Then, thankfully, a few months later, the weather thaws and the ground softens, and the first signs of hope begin to push up through the soil. The way is led by bulbs planted in advance, with hope but no promise. First, the snowdrops unfurl, transitioning us from real snow to real blooms. Next follow crocus, often shooting through a pile of crispy, moldering fall leaves. Then daffodils reflect the April sun, and we are on our way to a new warm season.

When spring arrives at last, the plants begin to let loose. I watch them leaf out, each in its season, popping out tiny buds ready to blossom. Last year’s perennials grow another several inches, or maybe even a foot, if the plant is a fast grower. They are prepared to do new things and reach new heights, so this is the time to feed them again.

Just like plants, we, too, have dormant periods. Things slow down, or maybe circumstances and situations force us to dig deep and plant hope for better days ahead. We’ve got our heads down and our teeth clenched, and we are doing what we can to get through a cold, icy season where, it seems, nothing grows, and the landscape is devoid of beauty and joy. But all the time, whether we realize it or not, our roots are growing stronger against the whipping wind (Col. 2:6-7), our branches growing tougher bark against that ice. 

Then it’s time to rest.

Plants don’t have confidence or stick-to-itiveness. They simply do what they are created to do. Bloom, shine, drop a season’s glory, rest, and then flourish once more. Our world sometimes infers that life is to be one ringing victory after another, a never-ending high note. Scripture teaches differently. “For everything, there is an appointed time, and an appropriate time for every activity on earth: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to uproot what was planted” (Eccl. 3:1-2).

When it comes time for us to blossom again, when the sun shines once more, we’ll be ready to face the new season in beautiful grandeur (Ps. 1:3). Our gardener will feed us what we need to grow (Phil. 4:19). We will send shoots up through the piles of pain and past that might still gather at our feet—until the spring winds blow them away.  

Is this a cold season for you? Hold on. Rest in the Lord, in Whom we plant hope. Spring is on the way.

Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him.

Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken ( Psalm 62:5-6 ).

Taken from Dwell: 90 Days at Home with God by Sandra Byrd © 2023.   

To order your own copy, go to  https://www.amazon.com/Dwell-90-Days-Home-God/dp/164070227X/ref=sr .

A Glimpse of Paradise

This Easter remain confident that, despite the times, we will see joy in the land of the living (Ps. 27:13), and that this is but a temporary dwelling place.

Photo used with purchase permission from Shutterstock.

One afternoon I ran around madly, trying to finish the chores before company arrived. I’d prepped the meals and cleaned the house. The last task was to strip and remake the bed in the guest room. I wanted my friends to feel as comfortable and cared for as possible during their stay, and I arranged my activities with an eye to that. I wanted their visit, though short, to be meaningful and that they should feel well-loved.  

When we chose the guest room, we’d selected the bedroom with the best view. In the distance was Puget Sound, and in the far distance, dominating the view, was The Mountain. As I dusted the blinds, I stopped and looked out the window across from the bed.

Paradise. 

It was a rare clear day, not a puff of a cloud in the sky, and off in the distance sat Mount Rainier. Everyone around here simply calls it The Mountain, not just because its near relative, Mount St. Helens, who lost her head a few years back and is now much harder to see. No, it’s called The Mountain because it’s the tallest and most majestic. For those who enjoy a relaxing walk and hike, the best part of Mount Rainier is an area called Paradise.

Paradise is often dotted with purple and red alpine flowers, bathed in sunlight, and soothed by cool breezes. To walk its gentle slope is to preview heaven. It’s peaceful and calm but filled with life and beauty and the same time. It’s one of my favorite places to be. Unfortunately, I don’t get to visit Paradise often, but I catch a glimpse of it from my home nearly every week. 

Is Paradise accessible in your home?

As we celebrate the Lord’s resurrection, many of us are busy preparing to welcome our guests, and of course, our Lord, to our homes and tables for a joyous celebration. For many of us, Easter is the most important holiday—holy day—on our calendar. And yet, even as we prepare our earthly homes, we know they are temporary.

The Lord has told us that this world is not our home (Heb. 13:14). Although there are many wonderful things here, and God desires for us to be filled with peace and joy in our present lives (Rom. 15:13), something much better lies ahead for those who believe. The Bible offers a few clues as to what heaven will be like (Rev. 21), but Jesus promised that it’s a place he prepared for us (John 14:2-3), where He’ll be with us, and where we’ll be with our brothers and sisters in the faith throughout eternity.

Easter is a time to remain confident that, despite the times, we will see joy in the land of the living (Ps. 27:13), but also to remember that this is but a temporary dwelling place. The Lord’s ultimate sacrifice gives us eternal life. But, of course, our eternal life is underway right now. It does not begin after death. 

In my day-to-day life, when I listen to a baby’s laughter, when I receive the gift of a hug or a card in the mail or when I share a meal with new friends or worship with old ones, I catch a little glimpse of the paradise to come from my earthbound window. 

When do you glimpse paradise?

He said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 

Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise” ( Luke 23:42-43 ). 

Taken from Dwell: 90 Days at Home with God by Sandra Byrd © 2023.

To order your own copy, go to  https://www.amazon.com/Dwell-90-Days-Home-God/dp/164070227X/ref=sr .

A Tasty Dwell Giveaway

Click on the Rafflecopter below to enter to win a copy of my new devotional, Dwell, and a copy of the entertaining and delicious book, The National Trust Book of Scones.

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Soft Sheets and Lumpy Pillows

Photo by Lorene Farrugia on Unsplash

I have always loved the idea of having a guest room in my home, but it hasn’t been very many years that we’ve had the space to have one. So when I finally did have a guest room, it was exciting to prepare a room in which my beloved family and friends, visitors to our church, or people the Lord brought our way would be able to sojourn comfortably.

I set about painting it a warm but restful color and decorated it with an eye toward France—dried lavender, soft colors, and a side-by-side English and French Bible translation. Quiet clock? Check. A little dish of candies? Check. Linens for bathing? Check! The most important element, of course, was the bedding. I piled it on à la The Princess and the Pea so our guests would have a restful night’s sleep.

After I finished preparing the room, a friend joked that perhaps we should add some lumpy pillows. After all, we didn’t want people to become so comfortable that they never wanted to leave . . . right? Her comment reminded me of the years when our then-teenaged son would not get up on time in the morning, and we finally rolled some marbles under his sheets so that it would be more comfortable to get out of bed than to stay put.

We can become too comfortable in this world, too, which in actuality is not our home (Philippians 3:20). We are just passing through, strangers in the land, as Scripture puts it. Thérèse of Lisieux reminds us, “The world’s thy ship and not thy home.” God gives us many pleasant, comfortable things to help us see His goodness in the land of the living, but we mustn’t become so comfortable that we don’t want to depart someday for our true home.

Purchase Dwell here: https://tinyurl.com/SandraByrdDwell

Taken from Dwell: 90 Days at Home with God by Sandra Byrd © 2023. Used by permission of Our Daily Bread Publishing®, Box 3566, Grand Rapids, MI 49501. All rights reserved. Further distribution is prohibited without written permission from Our Daily Bread Publishing (https://ourdailybreadpublishing.org/) ® at permissionsdept@odb.org.