Because I'm Free

Western Bluebird * South Rim * Grand Canyon

I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free,

for His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

One of the songs on continuous loop in my head last week is truly an oldie but goody. Written more than 100 years ago, "His Eye is on the Sparrow" has been a source of encouragement to me during the stresses and strains of life many times over, but especially recently. Inspiration for the hymn came when Civilla Martin and her doctor husband visited Elmira, NY in the spring of 1905. There, they met and developed a friendship with a couple, Mr. and Mrs. Doolittle. The husband was a cripple who took himself to work in a wheel chair. The wife had been bedridden for nearly 20 years. And yet despite these trials and tribulations, they were supremely happy Christians who were an inspiration to their friends.

One day while the Martins were visiting, Dr. Martin asked what was the secret to their hopeful optimism. Mrs. Doolittle's response revealed her great dependence on God and the comfort she and her husband drew from Him: "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me."  "The beauty of this simple expression of boundless faith gripped the hearts and fired the imagination of Dr. Martin and me," says Mrs. Martin. The hymn was born out of this experience. The next day she mailed the poem to Charles Gabriel, who supplied the music. Singer Ethel Waters so loved this song that she used its name as the title for her autobiography. The Biblical passages the verses draw on come from Matthew 6 and Matthew 10:

Matthew Chapter 6:26

Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not of more value than they?

Chapter 10:29-31:

29 Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.  30 But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  31 Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows. 

As I read about this song's history, I was even more inspired. My troubles may seem huge to me in the moment, but when I step back and put them in perspective, never mind put them in God's hands, they become very manageable:

Why should I feel discouraged?

Why should the shadows come?

Why should my heart be lonely

and long for heaven and home?

When Jesus is my portion?

My constant friend is he:

His eye is on the sparrow,

and I know he watches me.

Refrain:

I sing because I'm happy,

I sing because I'm free,

for his eye is on the sparrow,

and I know he watches me

"Let not your heart be troubled,"

his tender word I hear,

and resting on his goodness,

I lose my doubts and fears;

though by the path he leadeth

but one step I may see:

His eye is on the sparrow,

and I know he watches me.

Whenever I am tempted,

whenever clouds arise,

when song gives place to sighing,

when hope within me dies;

I draw the closer to him,

from care he sets me free:

His eye is on the sparrow,

and I know he watches me.

The part of the refrain that is most wonderful to me is the line that says "I sing because I'm free."  I read a devotional last week about knowing the Truth and "the Truth shall set you free."  That's the wonder of it all, that our God—the Truth—loves us so much, that He truly will set us free from all that worries or troubles us. Knowing this, why don't we sing more often?  Knowing this, why don't we shout it from the rooftop?  Knowing this, why are we ever discouraged?  His eye is on the sparrow. And I know He watches me. What do you know?

There is a Balm

"And their father Israel said unto them, if it must be so now, do this; take of the best fruits in the land in your vessels, and carry down the man a present, a balm, and a little honey, spices, and myrrh, nuts, and almonds."  Genesis 43:11

Ten years ago last week, I spent the better part of the week in North Conway, NH, for the annual spring Atlantic Union Conference Office of Education Administrators' Council. It was a productive time; it also was a restful time. Each spring, one the six conferences in the Atlantic Union take turns hosting these meetings and the conference educational personnel go out of their way to make them worth the trip and the time. The spring of 2010, Northern New England Conference hosted and we met at a hotel nestled in the shadow of the Presidential mountain range of the White Mountains. The views from the conference room where we met, while foggy and rainy, and even snowy, were still breath-taking.

One of the traditions of these spring meetings is that the host conference provides each team member with a gift bag full of items representative of the host conference and, more specifically, state. That year's bag was full of comfort items—including kettle corn, maple taffy, and a tin of soothing balm for either sleep, muscle soreness, or healing. In addition, the superintendent of education and her secretary made beautiful welcome cards with a lovely fringed gentian along with the above text (Genesis 43:11) on the cover and the wonderful negro spiritual "There is a Balm in Gilead" on the inside.  Trudy (the superintendent) read the lyrics out loud to us as part of her welcome, expressing her hope that our time together would be a balm in the midst of our Gileads.

As I listened to the words of that hymn, I felt overwhelmed with the power and comfort of its message:

There is a balm in Gilead

To make the wounded whole.

There is a balm in Gilead

To heal the sin-sick soul.

Sometimes I feel discouraged

And I feel my work's in vain.

But then the Holy Spirit

Revives my soul again.

There is a balm in Gilead...

My friends attending and facilitating the week’s meetings little realized how much I needed that reminder, and I didn’t enlighten them at the time.  It was enough that something (a few things, actually) broke the tension that had been threatening to break me if I didn’t catch my breath somehow.  The kind words, the thoughtful, soothing gifts, and the healing words of an old hymn sufficed.

Sometimes that’s all it takes to bring healing to a hurting heart.  Sometimes we don’t even need all that.  Maybe it just takes a note, a text letting someone know we are thinking of them, that we are there for them if they need us.  At the end of each of my online classes, I always tell the students to reach out to me if they need anything.  “I’m here all day long,” I tell them. I’ve been on the receiving end of a few notes thanking me for that, commenting that even if they don’t need help with school, it helps knowing someone is there, ready to sooth and comfort if needed. 

There is another in our lives who is a balm in the Gilead of our trials and tribulations.  That other, Jesus Christ, is always there for us, and not just in the daylight hours.  There are no limits to His time or His presence.  Isaiah 43:2-3 New Century Version describes it this way:

² When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.
    When you cross rivers, you will not drown.
When you walk through fire, you will not be burned,
    nor will the flames hurt you.
³ This is because I, the Lord, am your God,
    the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

We are all in need of the soothing balm that can only come through a relationship with Jesus. May I recommend Him to you?  He will revive your soul today.

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

            For the past few weeks, a hymn has been running through my head…so much so that when I sat down to write today’s devotional thought, that’s all I could think of.  The words, all by themselves, have been a constant comfort to me, but knowing how powerful thoughts don’t usually come out of nowhere, I decided to find out the story behind the song.  Here’s what I found out:

While many hymns are born out of a particular dramatic experience, this hymn was simply the result of the author’s morning by morning realization of God’s personal faithfulness.  Thomas Obadiah Chisholm was born in a log cabin in Kentucky. Without the benefit of high school or advanced training, he began his career as a school teacher at the age of sixteen, in the same country schoolhouse where he had received his elementary schooling.

       When he was twenty-one, he became the associate editor of his home town weekly newspaper, The Franklin Favorite. Six years later he accepted Christ as his personal Savior during a revival meeting through the ministry of Henry Clay Morrison, the founder of Asbury College and Seminary in Wilmore, Kentucky.  Morrison persuaded Chisholm to move to Louisville where he became editor of the Pentecostal Herald.

            Later Chisholm was ordained to the Methodist ministry but was forced to resign after a single, brief appointment at Scottsville, Kentucky, because of poor health.   He relocated his family to Winona Lake, Indiana to recover, and then to Vineland, New Jersey in 1916 where he sold insurance.

Chisholm retired in 1953 and spent his remaining years at the Methodist Home for the Aged, in Ocean Grove, New Jersey.  By the time of his retirement, he had written over 1200 poems, 800 of which were published. Many of these were set to music.  One of them was the hymn that I can’t get out of my head: “Great is Thy Faithfulness.”  In 1923, he sent several poems, including this one, to composer William Runyan who later wrote, "This particular poem held such an appeal that I prayed most earnestly that my tune might carry over its message in a worthy way, and the subsequent history of its use indicates that God answered prayer."  Runyan, also a Methodist minister, had grown up in Kansas. After pastoring churches for a dozen years, he was appointed evangelist for the Central Kansas Methodist Conference. A creative musician, he wrote many hymn tunes and was a hymnal compiler and an editor.  He was associated with John Brown University in Arkansas and later Moody Bible Institute in Chicago. For a number of years he was associated with Hope Publishing Company.

The hymn was first introduced in Great Britain in 1954 by the Billy Graham Crusades. A phrase in Lamentations 3:22-23 provides a basis for its refrain: "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

In a letter dated 1941, Mr. Chisholm wrote; “My income has not been large at any time due to impaired health in the earlier years which has followed me until now, although I must not fail to record the unfailing faithfulness of a covenant-keeping God, for which I am filled with astonishing gratefulness.”

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

  (1) Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father!

There is no shadow of turning with Thee;

Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not:

As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

      

(2) Great is Thy faithfulness, great is Thy faithfulness,

Morning by morning new mercies I see;

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided-

Great is Thy faithfulness, lord, unto me!

      

(3) Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest,

Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above,

Join with all nature in manifold witness

To Thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.

      

(4) Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,

Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide,

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow-

Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

I don’t know about you, but my life is full of examples of God’s faithfulness.  I’ve been reminded of that many times during this month of enormous stress and uncertainty.  Every morning, when I wake up—early, because I can’t sleep any more for the racing of my mind—I pray that the more things change, this one thing will stay the same:  that “He changes not, His compassions, they fail not.  As He has been He forever will be.”  May that be each of our experience in the days and weeks to come.

We Have This Hope

Coincidences.  I don't believe in them.  Too many times when I'm on the verge of saying "What a coincidence!" I look closer and realize it's no such thing.  Take this morning, for example.  A few minutes ago I was reading a friend's blog post about "Hope."  It was simple, yet profound.  An honest conversation about the difference between hoping and wishing and how they are not the same thing.  I was moved by the reminder that hope is grounded in something far deeper than a simple desire.  It is based on knowledge, although that knowledge might be hidden or even buried

at times.

As I was thinking about this, the CD that had been playing in the background changed to the next hymn:  "We Have This Hope" based on Titus 2:13 (We should live like that while we wait for our great hope and the coming of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ).  Electrified, as the words simultaneously burst into my consciousness with the words already on my mind, I paid attention to the words as never before:

We have this hope that burns within our hearts,

Hope in the coming of the Lord.

We have this faith that Christ alone imparts,

Faith in the promise of His word.

We believe the time is here

When the nations far and near

Shall awaken, shout and sing

Hallelujah, Christ is King!

We have this hope that burns within our hearts,

Hope in the coming of the Lord.

We are united in Jesus Christ our Lord.
We are united in His love.
Love for the waiting people of the world,
People who need our Savior’s love.
Soon the heav’ns will open wide,
Christ will come to claim His bride,
All the universe will sing
Hallelujah! Christ is King!
We have this hope, this faith, and God’s great love,
We are united in Christ.

Composed for the 1962 General Conference session by legendary Christian composer and musician Wayne Hooper, I first heard this beautiful reminder two years later at a Youth Congress in Atlantic City.  I will never forget it.  Not even 10 years old yet, and I understood clearly the difference Hope can make.  Looking back today, I can see how everything in my life revolves around this hope, this secure knowledge that Christ alone imparts when you embrace Him whole-heartedly.  I don't always remember it, unfortunately, but that's what reminders are for.  Reminders like Christy's blogpost this morning, or hearing that beloved hymn, or going back in memory to the time I first knew what hope was all about.

This morning, there are many things I am hopeful about--from the insignificant to the consequential, and everything in between.  Most importantly, hope in the soon-coming of the Lord.

[Photos from the sunset at my parents' in Maine on Wednesday night.]

Morning Rays · 365 Project

Morning Rays by Rondi Aastrup · 365 Project

lyrics by Eleanor Farjean

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day

The sun was streaming through a misty spot this morning, right in front of my front door.  I love how it poured through the mist and the tree leaves to create a lovely feel.  The sight brought to my mind this inspiring hymn that I first remember hearing when I was in high school (more than a few years ago).

Through all the Sky · 365 Project

Through all the Sky by Rondi Aastrup · 365 Project

Day is dying in the west;

Heav'n is touching earth with rest;

Wait and worship while the night

Sets the evening lamps alight

Through all the sky.

Chorus:

Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts!

Heav'n and earth are full of Thee,

Heav'n and earth are praising Thee,

O Lord most high!

Lord of life, beneath the dome

Of the universe, Thy home,

Gather us who seek Thy face

To the fold of Thy embrace,

For Thou art nigh.

While the deepening shadows fall,

Heart of love enfolding all,

Through the glory and the grace

Of the stars that veil Thy face,

Our hearts ascend.

When forever from our sight

Pass the stars, the day, the night.

Lord of angels, on our eyes

Let eternal morning rise

And shadows end.

Nothing Else Matters

I heard a sermon this weekend that rocked my thoughts. Being Easter weekend, you might imagine the sermon had something to do with the plan of salvation, Christ's death and resurrection. Of course you'd be right. Among the many standout things Randy Roberts, the speaker, shared were some of his favorite quotes about the importance of this plan of salvation. One of them has stuck in my mind and rolled around consciously and subconsciously ever since. Grant it, it's not been that long, but long enough to make a fairly deep impact. It goes something like this:

If the plan of salvation isn't real, then nothing else matters. If it is real, then nothing else matters.

Thinking about this over the weekend, I have been overwhelmed by the amazing love and sacrifice of this gift of salvation. I went to a church I'd never gone to before because one of my students was being baptized. At the end of the service, which was a blessing all by itself, I had the privilege and joy of singing Gilbert Martin's arrangement of "When I Survey the Wondrous" cross. the choir director just called people out from the congregation to sing this beautiful hymn and I all but ran up to sing with them. It was the most glorious way to end the day.

When I survey the wondrous cross

On which the Prince of Glory died;

My richest gain I count but loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,

Save in the death of Christ, my God;

All the vain things that charm me most,

I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet,

Sorrow and love flow mingled down.

Did e'er such love and sorrow meet

Or thorns compose so rich a crown.

Were the whole realm of nature mine

That were a present far too small;

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

My Heart Awakening

When morning gilds the skies

my heart awakening cries:

May Jesus Christ be praised!

Alike at work and prayer,

to Jesus I repair:

May Jesus Christ be praised!

The night becomes as day

when from the heart we say:

May Jesus Christ be praised!

The powers of darkness fear

when this sweet chant they hear:

May Jesus Christ be praised!

Let all the earth around

ring joyous with the sound:

May Jesus Christ be praised!

In heaven's eternal bliss

the loveliest strain is this:

May Jesus Christ be praised!

Be this, while life is mine,

my canticle divine:

May Jesus Christ be praised!

Be this th' eternal song

through all the ages long:

May Jesus Christ be praised!

I woke up early this morning and decided it was as good a time as any to start an early-morning walking routine. I thought it would be fun to see what I could see... I have just moved to Phoenix, so have been exploring what's around me. I have a walkway outside the gate of my back patio that leads to a golf course. I decided to explore this path this morning. All during my walk, this hymn kept resounding in my head. Let Jesus Christ be Praised..
.

Enough

My faith has found a resting place

Not in device nor creed.

I trust the ever-living one,
His wounds for me shall plead.

Refrain:
I need no other argument, I need no other plea.
It is enough that Jesus died and that He died for me.

Enough for me that Jesus saves;
This ends my fear and doubt.
A sinful soul I come to Him
And He will never cast me out.

My heart is leaning on the Word,
The living Word of God.
Salvation by my Savior’s Name,
Salvation through His blood.

My great Physician heals the sick,
The lost He came to save;
For me His precious blood He shed,
For me His life He gave.

So, I've made the move to Arizona. Clear across the country from everything I've known since my birth. Literally. Things that make a country-wide distance from family bearable: cell phones, Skype, planes, friendly people in Scottsdale, knowing there will come a time when there will be no more separation, only an Eternity of time together.

Photos: two different sunsets this week from my hotel room in Scottsdale.

In Every Change

Be still my soul. The Lord is on thy side.

Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.

Leave to thy God to order and provide.

In every change, He faithful will remain.

Lots of change going on in my life these days. In less than 5 days I will be making my way across the country to a new job in Scottsdale, Arizona. I must say I never ever thought of living that far away from New England. I never really thought about leaving New England until recently. I have loved living here, and was especially enjoying

it this summer, having the luxury of not working and thus the freedom to travel at will any and every day.

But now, I'm about to embark on a new adventure. The uneasiness I feel when I think of leaving my family so far behind is tempered by the comfort of the verse above. Be still my soul.

Photos: The view around Thunderbird Academy where I will be working; building where my classroom is (the right hand door).

At the Cross

My father is a violinist. He's many other things--an educator (principal at GBA in the 70s!), a theologian, a carpenter, a gardener, a philosopher--but at heart he's a musician, and a pretty good one at that. When he was in high school, he had hopes of being a concert violinist, or at the very least a professional orchestral player. But then he went to college and God called him to the ministry--both pastoral and teaching. Growing up, I heard him play many times--all kinds of classical music. But my favorite memories of him playing are of when he'd play for church, always just a simple hymn. He wanted to reach out to everyone with his music and hymns, for him, did that. Hymns like "Face to Face with Christ my Saviour" and "Into the Woods my Master Went" and "O Sacred Head Now Wounded" were among his favorites. Hearing them played under his skillful hands made them my favorites as well, especially after I looked the words up in the hymnal and realized the impact of what he was playing.

Every year at this time, I am drawn to the music of the time. The hymns my father put into my mental iTouch always start to play in my mind and take hold of my heart, especially Paul Gerhardt's setting of the ancient Latin hymn "Oh Sacred Head Now Wounded":

O sacred Head, now wounded,

with grief and shame weighed down,


Now scornfully surrounded

with thorns, Thine only crown;


How pale Thou art with anguish,

with sore abuse and scorn!


How does that visage languish,

which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered,

was all for sinners’ gain;


Mine, mine was the transgression,

but Thine the deadly pain.


Lo, here I fall, my Savior!

’Tis I deserve Thy place;


Look on me with Thy favor,

vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

This week, as those words swirled through my head, the images they created jammed up my heart and made me grateful anew for what my Saviour actually did for me. They also brought to mind another, related hymn, "At the Cross":

Alas, and did my Savior bleed,

And did my Sov'reign die?

Would He devote that sacred head

For such a worm as I?

Chorus:

At the cross, at the cross

Where I first saw the light,

And the burden of my heart rolled away

It was there by faith I received my sight,

And now I am happy all the day!

Was it for crimes that I had done

He groaned upon the tree?

Amazing pity, grace unknown,

And love beyond degree!

So, what, then, does it mean to me that Jesus became a human being and lived as a man for 33 years and then died for me? A man that got hungry, tired, thirsty? A man who had intense feelings? A man who knew temptation? Does all of that really affect my life today? What difference does it make? Well, for me, Jesus’ life means four things:

1. He provides atonement. Since Adam and Eve chose sin, with its penalty of separation from God, only Jesus, according to the preconceived plan, could pay the penalty and thus change the consequences of that sin. The man Jesus provided atonement--at-one-ment—and restored harmony between man and God.

2. I better understand God. To face Satan’s accusations about God and His character, to bridge the distance resulting from sin, to heal misunderstandings likely in that relation-ship, God chose to give the watching world, and me, a living example of what He was really like. Jesus went beyond telling to show me what His Father was like. How could I love or serve some impersonal, cosmic force? But now, I see God Himself through the life and person of His Son.

3. He better understands me. Because I am convinced that He has felt my pain, I will more easily turn to Him for encouragement or forgiveness, confident that He will care, He will sympathize, He will understand.

4. He provides a pattern, a role model. As a person subject to pressure, bound by time, plagued at times by fatigue, I carefully watch Jesus’ life for His responses. And I see unqualified love (John 15:12), unhurried purpose (John 12:27), constant dependence (John 5:19), and responsive obedience (John 14:31). What a contrast to my self-centeredness, independence and defensive-ness!

The words and music of Easter encourage me to look at Christ’s life on earth which, in turn, shows me that what God expects of me is not impossible. Someone else has gone before me and shown me the way. Because of His life, I know how to live my life. Because of His struggles, I know how to get through my struggles. Because of His earthly death, I have the promise of eternal life. And so do you.

Old Time and New Beginnings

Interesting twist on yesterday's post: I found a different version of the hymn in my church hymnal. It adds a stanza and makes the first stanza a question instead of a statement. Makes for an entirely different reading, too, don't you think? And, ironically, in the midst of my "new beginning" ponderings, I attended a wedding this evening between two late septuagenarians (mother of two friends). They've only known each other a month, barely, but figured they needed to "gather their rosebuds while they may, Old Time is still a-flyin'." It was a lovely, funny wedding, full of music and laughter. I wish them all the best.

1
Is this a day of new beginnings,
Time to remember and move on,
Time too believe what love is bringing,
Laying to rest the pain that’s gone?

2
How can the seasons of a planet
Mindlessly spinning round its sun
With just a human name and number
Say that some new thing has begun?

3
Yet through the life and death of Jesus
Love’s mighty Spirit, now as then,
Can make for us a world of difference
As faith and hope are born again.

4
Then let us, with the Spirit’s daring,
Step from the past and leave behind
Its disappointment, guilt, and grieving,
Seeking new paths, and sure to find.

5
Christ is alive, and goes before us
To show and share what love can do.
This is a day of new beginnings;
Our God is making all things new.

New Beginnings

One of my friends unwittingly sent me on a treasure hunt tonight with his Facebook status. I knew it was a line from either a poem or a hymn, as that's what he typically posts on Friday nights. Usually I know where they come from, but tonight I couldn't place it. Longfellow, I thought. Or Tennyson.

When I Googled the phrase, the first hit sent me to an archived Easter sermon from Boston University's Marsh Chapel. Powerful. I'm glad I found and read it. But it did not credit the lines. So I went back to Google and clicked on the next entry. This time, I got sent to another Easter sermon site. And again, the lines were not credited. Still, the message was strong, and I'm the better for having read it.

Going back yet again to Google, I finally found a site that gave all the lyrics to Brian Wren's new (1978) hymn where I was able to see the lines (third verse) in their context. I can see why they would work for Easter time, but I like them for tonight, for the New Year, for starting anew yet one more time. The most wonderful thing to me is in the last line where it says "our God is making all things new." The truth is, each day is a new opportunity to start afresh with God. He is steady, He is constant. He is always there for us. But each new day, each new year, each new decade is our chance to start anew as well.

So, "Then let us, with the Spirit's daring, step from the past, . . . seeking new beginnings . . . . Happy New Year!

This Is A Day Of New Beginnings

This is a day of new beginnings,
time to remember and move on,
time to believe what love is bringing,
laying to rest the pain that’s gone.

For by the life and death of Jesus,
love’s mighty Spirit, now as then,
can make for us a world of difference,
as faith and hope are born again.

Then let us, with the Spirit’s daring,
step from the past and leave behind
our disappointment, guilt, and grieving,
seeking new paths, and sure to find.

Christ is alive, and goes before us
to show and share what love can do.
This is a day of new beginnings;
our God is making all things new.

-Brian Wren, 1978

We Thank Thee, Oh Lord

For balmy sunshine

For nourishing rain

Dear Lord and our Father

We thank Thee

For food and Thy care

Rich blessings we share

Dear Lord and our Father

We thank Thee

We thank Thee oh Lord

Those are the lyrics to a prayer-song we used to sing when my sisters and I were young. Last weekend, we celebrated Thanksgiving in Maine with our parents. My mother wanted to sing that prayer, but it's been a long, long time since we've sung it, and the young ones didn't know it at all, so it didn't go as smoothly as it used to. I've thought of the words since then, though. Simple words, but they encompass nearly all that I need and am thankful for. If I were to ad a verse, I'd add something about family and friends, a thriving school, and a caring church community. That would pretty much sum it all up then.

My middle sister and I planned the Thanksgiving Church Service for our church. It was something like one long responsive reading with a dozen readers, congregational responses, eight congregational hymns (we sang selected verses from most of them, complimenting the readings), three instrumental meditations (one of which was my niece playing "We Gather Together"), and a vocal solo--all intertwined and interspersed. Right before the final hymn (Now Thank We all Our God), the congregation had opportunity to share their praises and thanksgivings. Everyone seemed to love it, saying it was such a lovely way to acknowledge all the blessings God has given us And there are many.

Thanksgiving day itself, our immediate and

extended family gathered at that same sister's house for the afternoon. We had a couple dozen or more people there all told, and of course quite a bit of excellent food. After the meal and pies, we were treated to some music, as tends to be the tradition at these gatherings (there are many musicians in the family). This time, my sister's family cello quartet played her arrangement of "It is Well with my Soul" and then her sister-in-law's arrangement of the "Navy Hymn" (three there had been in the Navy and one is currently in the Army Reserves). I always enjoy this part of our time together.

Now, the next few weeks will be packed (for me) with meetings and hard work. One bright light between now and Christmas break will be a very quick trip down to TN for my niece's graduation from college. Time's going by much too quickly! Just yesterday we were excited about her birth...I thankful for it all, though. No matter how quickly it goes...

Thou my best thought, Thy presence my light

I've been thinking about the things I need to change up in my life. One of the things I decided to do is read the Bible through this year. I chose to read it chronologically, in the order, as best scholars can tell, that things happened. I am reading it in two versions, the New International and The Message. The experience, three days so far, has been fascinating. Having grown up reading and studying the Bible, the stories are not new (Creation, the Flood), but I am new. Not only new every day, but certainly vastly different from when I first learned the details. Now, I am looking at it with fresh eyes. And I am amazed all over again at what God did.

This week, I was seeing Him as a creator, an artist, having created something and then seen it go awry. As with many literal artists, He decided to ball it all up and start over. That's what the flood was about. I'm not saying He did it in an artistic fit of despair, but I am sure He was greatly disappointed in the way humanity did not respond to His gift of life. I was equally impressed to read, at the end of the flood story, how He promised He would never do that again, never completely (all but 8) destroy the world. I wonder how many times He's itched to do it, though! How many times He's looked at who and what we've become and sighed a heavy sigh.

It's another gift to us that He's let us muddle on, trying to find balance and focus. Instead of interfering, or putting us out of our misery, He's held back His hand and let us figure out, or not, that we need him. How amazing is that?

The hymn Be Thou My Vision has been on my mind this afternoon, perhaps because I am working on clarifying my purpose. I know I'm on the right track, but I need to tighten my grip on what I am doing, zero in, with specific intention, on what my vision is. This hymn knows the answer lies in Him. I looked up the origin of the hymn, and this is what I found:

With its heartfelt poetry and moving melody, "Be Thou My Vision" beautifully expresses the desires of the Christian heart. Though its popularity rose only in the past fifty years or so, the hymn actually has a rich history dating back to the eighth century.

Between the years of 400 and 700 AD the Irish people lived out a passionate faith in Christ. Ireland took up the missionary endeavor with excitement, and the country became known for its all-absorbing efforts to share Christianity throughout the world. Irish missionaries were found from Scotland to Switzerland, spreading the Good News wherever they went.

Some scholars believe that the words to the hymn are the product of a man known simply as St. Patrick. Patrick was born in A.D. 373 along the banks of the River Clyde in what is now called Scotland. When he was 16 he was kidnapped by pirates and taken as a slave to Ireland. There he gave his life to Jesus Christ. He eventually escaped, but he never forgot this experience and when he was about 30 he returned to his former captors with only one possession: the Latin Bible. History tells us that St. Patrick was the man most responsible for the Good News of Christ coming to Ireland. As a result of his preaching, over 200 churches were established and 100,000 converts were baptized.

"Be Thou My Vision" undoubtedly comes from this spiritually rich period. Its prominent theme encourages single-hearted focus and devotion to Christ. In the hymn lyrics, the poet expresses his adoration of God through the many titles he gives him: Vision, Wisdom, Word, Great Father, Power, Inheritance, High King of heaven, Treasure, bright heaven's Sun, Ruler of all.

Today, we continue to sing the words of this hymn, echoing the poet's response to God's many titles. "Thou my best thought, Thy presence my light."

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul's Shelter, Thou my high Tower:
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of heaven, my victory won,
May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heaven's Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

Image from Snapshots of Joy

O Come, O Come Immanuel

Facebook is a really cool connector! Tonight, I found another student from 30 years ago. He was a sophomore when I last knew him. Now he's a 40+ professional Christian musician. He doesn't know where, when, or how he was born, but was found in a garbage can some days after his birth in Korea. He was adopted and brought to America and eventually ended up at the boarding school in Michigan where I started teaching. Here is a movie he made about his beginnings:



And here's a video of what he's doing now with his life, making beautiful music:

A Favorite Christmas Carol

Maybe I'm rushing the season, but I've been listening to Christmas Carols this weekend. I listened the 90 minute drive to and from my parents' in Maine and went through a few albums and artists as I drove: Il Divo, Michael MacDonald, The Carpenters, Sissel, James Taylor, Take 6, and John Rutter. Quite an eclectic collection, wouldn't you say? And that's just a small portion of the albums I have relating to Christmas!

With so many artists trying to put their own spin on some of the same carols, you would think that I might favor one over others. And while that may or may not be true, one thing is for sure, I do have a favorite carol. I was surprised to discover that I was not alone in my choice. The BBC Music Magazine took a poll of 51 of the world's leading choirmasters and choral experts. Lo and behold, my personal favorite carol was also theirs! Christina Rossetti's In the Bleak Midwinter tops my list and theirs. If you've ever heard or sung it, perhaps you understand why:

In the bleak midwinter
frosty wind made moan
Earth stood hard as iron,
water like a stone;
Snow had fallen,
Snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter,
Long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold him,
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
when he comes to reign;
In the bleak midwinter
A stable place sufficed
The Lord God incarnate,
Jesus Christ.

Enough for him, whom Cherubim
Worship night and day
A breast full of milk
And a manger full of hay.
Enough for him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and Seraphim
thronged the air;
but his mother only,
In her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.

What can i give him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,
Yet what can I give Him--
Give my heart.

Pictures were taken in my parents' back yard this morning.