Carnival of Beauty--Flowers

This week's carnival is up and running. Go here to see the list of women participating.

Thanks, Grandpa!

My maternal grandfather dutifully followed in the footsteps of his male ancestors and became a pastor, but his passion was agriculture. He was able to transfer this love of growing things to me through three special visits.

When I was about seven years old, Grandpa and Grandma DeChant took a trip from Ohio to visit us in Colorado one summer. Grandpa took me for a walk and when we were almost home, he stooped and drew my attention to some vividly colored zinnias growing alongside the sidewalk in our neighbors' yard. The colors were striking, but it was a long-spent bloom, turned withered and brown that he held in his fingers to show me. As he retrieved the seeds from their little case, he opened up a new world to me. The miracle of all those seeds, being produced by a single bloom was revealed to me by the man who secretly longed to be a farmer.

Seven years later it was my pleasure to take a trip to visit my grandparents in Ohio. I was proud to attend church on Sunday and hear him preach, but it was our forays out into his garden that I cherished. I remember most his roses, day lilies, and pansies. While checking on his rose garden I was very impressed that he was not the least bit reticent to squish aphids between his fingers. I wondered, "Will I ever love gardening so much that I won't think twice about squishing aphids by hand?"

Several years later, Grandpa was gone, and my mother and I took a trip to her childhood home in Virginia. The church where her father preached had turned into an Italian restaurant after the new church was built, and the parsonage where she lived was long gone. We sat in the former sanctuary ordering from the menu, and she regaled me with stories from her childhood. She remembered that Grandpa had grown pansies in the shady area between the church and the parsonage. We looked at old photos of the church while our dinners were being prepared. Then, when our meals arrived, we were blessed to be presented with sumptuous food garnished with...pansies! Only God can orchestrate such memories.

I now joyfully garden, I always grow pansies, and I unabashedly squish aphids by hand. I also look forward to eventually being reunited with my grandfather where we can enjoy God's heavenly gardens.

"And Can It Be That I Should Gain?"

We visited a church today where a friend was raising support for her upcoming missionary work in Spain. One of the scriptures read was 1 Peter 2:4-5. You come to him, the living Stone--rejected by human beings but chosen by God and precious to him... There is a succulent plant called a living stone (pictured above), or lithops. They are a little tricky to grow, having specific light and water requirements. They also shrivel up and appear to die in the winter, coming back in the spring, sometimes doubling in size.

Our Lord, the perfect Living Stone, appeared to have died, but He came back and continues to adopt new children into the family of God. We, who don't deserve it, are welcomed to share in His inheritance of eternal life in heaven.

(To hear the accompaniment to this hymn, read the remainder of the verses, and read about its author and composer, go here.)

And Can It Be That I Should Gain?

And can it be that I should gain
An interest in the Savior’s blood?
Died He for me, who caused His pain—
For me, who Him to death pursued?
Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

He left His Father’s throne above
So free, so infinite His grace—
Emptied Himself of all but love,
And bled for Adam’s helpless race:
’Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!
’Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!

Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
Fast bound in sin and nature’s night;
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray—
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.

No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in Him, is mine;
Alive in Him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach th’eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Bold I approach th’eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.

One Day in the Life

In my quest to read more this year, and to read books I wish had been assigned during my high school or college days, I checked out One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich from the library. I guess I have been on a mini Russian kick the past two weeks. I played the Leningrad Symphony, e-mailed my friend in Minsk, Belarus (who wrote back saying not to worry about her), and read Solzhenitsyn's book for the first time. I couldn't sleep until I finished it tonight.

This account of an ordinary day in the Stalinist Siberian work camp is a testament to one man's ability to rise above his captors, maintain dignity, take personal pride in his work, help others, and keep his sanity through an insane situation. At the end of what we would consider a horrific day, he is able to recount the good things that happened and declare it "almost a happy one." And yet, in the very next sentence, the closing of the entire book, he notes that it is just one day out of 3,653 of his ten-year sentence. Just when you marvel how he could have made it through one of these ungodly days, you can't begin to fathom surviving one after another for ten years.

I liked his sparse prose. Sparse, like their meager food rations. Sparse, like their clothing allotment. And like the cold snowy landscape.

Solzhenitsyn is still alive, living back in Russia again since the collapse of the USSR. He signed a copy of this book for the library of the city of Chicago, who has chosen it for their spring 2006 "One Book, One Chicago" selection.

Late Night Musings

I played the Faure Requiem at a concert this evening. Such a beautiful piece.

While waiting to go onstage, there was quite a bit of activity in the "green room." The principal cellist was translating Greek, the solo violinist was practicing her part and debating the finer points of her practice mute, the trumpet players joked about how little they had to play, a violist and cellist were discussing Judge Judy, the bassoonists were discussing reeds, and I tried, not very successfully, to read One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. Solzhenitsyn writes about some of the prisoners, "[Alyoshka] and the other Baptists spent their Sundays whispering to each other...They'd been lumbered with twenty-five years a piece just for being Baptists. Fancy thinking that would cure them!"

Can you imagine. Twenty-five years for being a Baptist. Whew! Wonder what they whispered to each other on Sundays. We have so much to be thankful for here in America. We take it too much for granted.

I have a friend who lives in Minsk, Belarus. I hope some of this protesting by the opposition has a positive result. Pray for the people of Belarus. (Photo above is from Minsk.)

Today my son's favorite Cory catfish died. The other Cory stood guard over his little body in the tank so the other fish wouldn't mess with it. My son went out back and dug a hole in the backyard by the Blue Spruce tree. In the snow. Bless his heart. He liked this fish too much to flush it down the toilet. I went outside with him to give it a proper burial before I left for my rehearsal.

Mom said the kids were great. Always makes you feel good to hear that.

The Days Fashioned for Me

Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.
And in Your book they all were written,
The days fashioned for me,
When as yet there were none of them.
Psalm 139:16 (NKJV)


Little did I know that the decision I made at age 8 to play the French horn would have ramifications for decades to come. A church service that my husband and I played for began the change in our hearts towards God, and a few months later we both became Christians. Some years down the road we were going through the adoption process for our first child. We prayed for confirmation from God that the child offered to us would be the right one for us. We didn't know how He could show us an answer to this prayer, but we waited expectantly. We received a call about a baby boy one day, but he had some health concerns, so our social worker gave us time to consider our decision.

It didn't take us long to decide, for the day we received the call was September 16, 1994. It was ten years, to the day, since we had both become Christians. What better confirmation could we receive that God was carefully orchestrating this for us. Of course, we said, "Yes!"

A few years after that, God was gracious to include our daughter in this special date in our lives. Again, the date was not fixed by us, but by the Lord and the behemoth known as the Immigration and Naturalization Service. On September 16, 1998, both of our (quite healthy!) children became U.S. citizens.

God is always sovereign. When we don't know Him, when we don't acknowledge Him, when we deny Him, when we ignore Him; He is present in all aspects of our lives. Even in our fallen state, His works are so unbelievably amazing that they can't help but be noticed by us. God has blessed my family by showing us in a very unique way how His providence has been working in our lives. I don't doubt Him when I am not able to see His hand in such a distinct fashion, but I am eternally grateful that He allowed us to see such a glimpse of His perfect tapestry.

Theses on Worship--Part 6

We received a flyer on our door advertising a church in our part of the Denver area. It's a huge church, holding four services from Saturday evening through Sunday morning, and famous for attracting young people with its rock concert style of worship. In our search for a new church home, we never even considered this church. We don't wish to attend a church where coffee, bagels, and ear plugs are handed out as you enter. We don't care how "relevant" or "exciting" it claims to be.

Now that I've read this flyer, I'm more convinced it's not the place for us. The advertised four week sermon series (which had already concluded when we received the flyer) is titled "When You're in Deep--How to Get Out of 4 Feet of Monkey Poop." I have no desire to attend a church that mentions the name of Jesus as many times in an advertisement as the term "monkey poop" (twice for both)!

Continuing my review of Jim Jordan's book, I am sharing his next two theses on worship. Ironically, there's no mention of monkey do-do in this book. Hmm... Wonder if I should continue reading?? (Go here for my first post in this series.)

Thesis #8 Worship Must Be Saturated with the Word
Jordan says that when we worship we both glorify the Word and receive directions from the Word. He states, "The Word needs to be sung, read, preached, taught." He's very adament about singing (or chanting) the psalms. He writes, "How dare we sing man-composed hymns if we have not mastered all 150 of God's psalms, as well as the other divine hymns in the Bible?" For someone like me who loves good hymns, this is a tall order!

Thesis #9 Love Makes Things Beautiful
Jordan writes, "The three dimensions of the Church and of worship are Person, Word, and Sacrament. If we love these, we shall beautify them." Some of the outward manifestations of this are: dressing nicely for church since we are made in the image of God. (Unless, of course, you go to the Monkey Church, where, "You don't have to dress up--come as you are!") Look at the Bible you carry to church. Does it have gilt edges, leather bound, special paper? This helps to beautify the Word, but we also need to read and sing the Word. Beautifying the Sacraments seems to come more easily. Most churches use nice serving trays for communion, a cloth for the communion table, candles, and flowers.

I think I'll skip the zoo and keep reading Jordan's book.

"Be Thou My Vision"

I had originally planned to choose another Lenten hymn this week, but we sang this in church today, and I was reminded of how much I love this hymn. The text was written in Ireland in the 8th century, but not translated into English in 1905. The melody is a traditional Irish tune, "Slane." (This photo is of Slane Hill in Ireland, where St. Patrick is said to have lit the bonfire which led to the introduction of Christianity in Ireland in 433 A.D. These ruins are from a 16th century monastery.)

Go here for the tune if you wish to sing along. I prefer this arrangement which sounds more like a real organ, but the translation of the some of the verses aren't quite as easy to sing as the one written below and in the first link. This version also has a fifth verse with which I am not familiar. It is inserted in the middle as the third verse, and I quite like it!

"Be Thou My Vision"

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.

Leningrad Revisited

Nearly 42 years ago I sat with my father in the Colorado high school band room where he was the band director. My father and I, looking for a musical instrument for me to learn. I tried several instruments until I finally settled on the French Horn as "the one" I was to pursue. One month later we moved to another town and I began playing the French Horn. Shortly thereafter I first heard Shostakovich's Leningrad Symphony in our living room, listening to the record with my dad many times. He loved this symphony, and I grew to love it with him. Our family moved to West Virginia where I attended junior and senior high school, but I came back out to Colorado to attend college, where I played French Horn in the Greeley Philharmonic for two years and met the man whom I would later marry.

One week ago this evening, I got to perform the one symphony I most remember listening to with my dad, in the town where I had learned to play the horn. This is amazing considering I lived in nine different houses in three states before I left home for college. I had the wonderful privilege to perform this symphony with the Greeley Philharmonic Orchestra under the direction of Dr. Howard Skinner, under whose baton I sat in my college days. My husband of 25 years was in the horn section with me.

We played the "invasion theme" of the first movement, which I remembered so distinctly from my childhood. I was playing as loudly as I could, along with all of the orchestra, emulating the cacophony of the invading German army into Russia in 1941. But it was the closing strains of the fourth movement, the movement inspired by the hope that the Allies would eventually win the war, that brought tears to my eyes.

Dad died almost two years ago. But as I played those closing bars, the whole orchestra playing a joyous, victorious fortissimo, I gave it my all for my dad. My dad, who patiently sat in a band room while I tried out different instruments those many summers ago. I'm sure he would have found a way to be in the audience had he been alive. He would have been so proud. His "Little Bird" playing the very symphony we loved. I gave it my all and played for him.

Leningrad Symphony

This past Saturday evening I had the pleasure to perform Dmitri Shostakovich's Symphony Number 7, "The Leningrad Symphony." I played the final measures of this 85 minute symphony with tears in my eyes and enjoyed every minute of it. There are conflicting books and articles written about Shostakovich, so I won't go into too much detail about him or this symphony here. But, I will try to explain this Time Magazine cover by sharing an excerpt of an interesting article.

"The start of the Great Patriotic War [1941, when Germany invaded Russia] stirred Shostakovich as it did millions of his countrymen. He tried twice to enlist in the Red Army but was turned down because of his poor eyesight. He then joined a Home Guard unit drawn from members of the Leningrad Conservatory (where Shostakovich taught), and the world-famous composer spent several weeks laboring to build defensive lines that Soviet military leaders were belatedly erecting around the city.

Shostakovich was next transferred to a firefighting brigade, where he was posted to extinguish any incendiaries that might land on the conservatory's roof. This assignment proved largely symbolic, as the school's directors always found excuses to keep their most valuable faculty member busy elsewhere.

Nonetheless, on July 29, 1941, Soviet propagandists posed fireman Shostakovich for a number of photos that were widely distributed and which came to symbolize the unshakable determination of Leningrad's defenders."

Go here to read the article in its entirety. (See also my previous post about Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.)

The Many Layers of a Symphony

A symphony is not just a symphony. Symphonic works are wonders to behold; great masterpieces composed by the geniuses of their day. Take Beethoven's Ninth Symphony for example. It is an absolute marvel of a composition. And yet, if you look at the story behind the symphony you will appreciate it all the more. By the time Beethoven composed the Ninth, he was completely deaf. The piece is magnificent enough, but when you realize this limitation, you will never listen to it in quite the same way again. I would be hard pressed to compose two minutes of an original composition for one instrument. Beethoven composed a four movement symphony, for orchestra and chorus, that lasts 59 minutes and 43 seconds!

In addition to this marvel, Beethoven got to conduct his own piece at its premier. I wonder what it must have felt like, standing on the podium, "hearing" the entire symphony in his head as he conducted the orchestra. When the last strains of the joyous fourth movement died away and Beethoven put down his baton, he didn't know what the reaction of the audience would be to this new symphony of his. The orchestra members had to motion to Beethoven to turn around and face the audience. As he did so, he saw them standing, clapping, and cheering for his wonderful masterpiece.

I urge you to take some time this week to listen to one of Beethoven's nine symphonies. These are just a part of the entire body of his work, but they certainly deserve to be placed in the category of "classics." That one man could compose so much beautiful music, be such a musical innovator in his day, and compose once he had become totally deaf are all marvels that only God could enable to come to fruition.

"Jesus, Priceless Treasure"

The scripture verses read in church this morning had the common theme of Jesus as the Shepherd. Some of the words in this Lenten hymn remind me of a protective shepherd, guarding his flock, so I'll sing this with my children in school this week.


"Jesus, Priceless Treasure," written by two Germans in 1753, was harmonized by J.S. Bach 80 years later. Englishwoman Catherine Winkworth translated the hymn into English in 1863. Go here to read the remaining verses and hear the melody of this hymn.

"Jesus, Priceless Treasure"

Jesus, priceless Treasure,
Source of purest pleasure,
Truest Friend to me.
Ah, how long in anguish
Shall my spirit languish,
Yearning, Lord, for Thee?
Thou art mine, O Lamb divine!
I will suffer naught to hide Thee,
Naught I ask beside Thee.

In Thine arms I rest me;
Foes who would molest me
Cannot reach me here.
Though the earth be shaking,
Every heart be quaking,
Jesus calms my fear.
Lightnings flash and thunders crash;
Yet, though sin and hell assail me,
Jesus will not fail me.

Theses on Worship--Part 5

In my personal ongoing study of worship, I continue with sharing Jim Jordan's thoughts from his book, Theses on Worship. Following are his sixth and seventh theses. (Go here for the first post in this series.)

#6 There Are Both Private and Public Worship Events
Jordan details the historical background of worship from the Garden of Eden, to the Abrahamic era, the Mosaic era, and finally to the New Creation. Despite our ability to have full access to God, there are still what Jordan refers to as "closed" events (e.g. communion, prayer) in which a nonbeliever would not participate and/or would not understand. The "open" events would include a range from other worship to overt hospitality events that reach out to the surrounding community. He reiterates that we need to have different events at different times. These events are not the same in character and the fact that most churches try to roll them all together has created difficulties.

#7 The Heart of Worship is Amen to God's Three Gifts
Here, Jordan outlines what people want, how we mistakenly try to achieve these goals, and then how God fulfills these desires perfectly and completely.
1. All men want to feel important. God the Father gives us His own glory and makes us new.
2. All men want knowledge and wisdom. We get God's secrets in the Bible and Jesus listens to our prayers.
3. All men want a glorious life. God gives us eternal life.

(Note about the photograph: I love photos of doors. Especially old ones. I want a church with (Biblical, historical) tradition throughout the service, but not a dead church. So even though this isn't the best photo for this post, I share it anyway because I like it.)

He Was Wounded For Our Transgressions

"But He was wounded for our transgressions,
He was bruised for our iniquities;
The chastisement for our peace was upon Him,
And by His stripes we are healed."
Isaiah 53: 5

God symbolically showed me this truth yesterday, all because of a blunder I made. You see, I had volunteered to gather the Tenebrae candle items for the first Sunday of Lent. At home I had carefully whittled the base of each of the "ordinary" candles as they were too large to adequately fit the candleholders. I had also purchased seven white tapers to serve as Christ candles for each of the services to be held between now and Good Friday. On Sunday morning I packed everything up and we headed out the door to church.

Once at church, I began setting up the grapevine wreath, the plate to catch wax drippings, the candle holders, the carefully fitted ordinary can..... Panic set in as I searched frantically for them. They weren't in the car, they weren't in any of the bags I brought. They simply weren't at church. The unflappable pastor helped me quickly make due. We had no choice but to use all of the Christ candles in place of the ordinary candles.

Once I sat down and my heartbeat returned to normal, God showed me His lesson. I watched as the white Christ candles burned in place of the ordinary candles. The air currents blew on them, quite heavily at times, but the candles steadfastly kept burning. Then the scripture was read, and the first of the ordinary candles was to be snuffed out. But, in place of the ordinary candle, a Christ candle was being snuffed out. The white candle that so gallantly weathered the air currents, was snuffed out in another's place.

Thank you, Pastor Smith, for being so calm. Thank you, God, for reminding me of your truth. And thank you, Jesus, for weathering many trials and then being snuffed out in my place.

"O Love, How Deep, How Broad, How High"

I've been looking for an appropriate Lenten hymn to teach my children this week and I found this 15th century Latin hymn in an old 1940 Episcopal hymnal. After searching on the internet, I've found several melodies for this hymn (all different from the melody in the hymnal), but I've decided to use this one. You can also try this other version, but without the score, it's more of a challenge to match the words to the melody.

I like this hymn because the words capture a conversation my husband and I had this past week. We were discussing an article that revered Jesus more as a CEO than as Savior. I said, "He didn't come to give us a business model. He came in obedience to God, the Father." My husband added simply, "He came to die." In the inevitable hustle and bustle of life I want my children to reflect this season not only on His obedience and our sin, but also on the fact that, "He came to die."


"O Love, How Deep, How Broad, How High"

O love, how deep, how broad, how high,
it fills the heart with ecstasy,
that God, the Son of God, should take
our mortal form for mortals' sake!

He sent no angel to our race
of higher or of lower place,
but wore the robe of human frame
himself, and to this lost world came.

For us baptized, for us he bore
his holy fast and hungered sore,
for us temptation sharp he knew;
for us the tempter overthrew.

For us he prayed; for us he taught;
for us his daily works he wrought;
by words and signs and actions thus
still seeking not himself, but us.

For us to wicked men betrayed,
scourged, mocked, in purple robe arrayed,
he bore the shameful cross and death,
for us at length gave up his breath.

For us he rose from death again;
for us he went on high to reign;
for us he sent his Spirit here,
to guide, to strengthen and to cheer.

To him whose boundless love has won
salvation for us through his Son,
to God the Father, glory be
both now and through eternity.

Theses on Worship--Part 4

Our suburb's little newspaper had an article today about a church in our part of the Denver area. Since about 2000 people come to its three "celebration services," the article's author surmised, "[They] must be doing something right." There's a person on staff (not the pastor) with the title of "celebration architect." And, running concurrently with the three services (er, celebrations) is a separate service for the high school students, and another separate service for the middle school students. The author then wrote, "[This church] is a great place to get connected..."

So, let me get this straight. Because there are lots of other people there, it's a good place to "celebrate" every Sunday. (Or Saturday evening at 5:05 if you prefer.) If I enjoy myself during the celebration, I have the celebration architect to thank. And, I can get "connected" better if I don't celebrate with my teenagers.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Not coincidentally, I had planned to share Jim Jordan's fifth thesis on worship in this post. Go here to see my first post in this series.

5. Worship Should Be Beautiful

Jordan says, "We are called together to glorify and honor God." How do we do this? First, we offer our best to Him. We don't offer the most familiar, or the easiest, but the best. Second, "[W]e should first use the resources of Christian tradition in God's worship, not the latest fads of popular heathen culture." He continues, "The tradition of the Church is the believer's first culture, and his national culture is secondary...If we don't know the tradition, we need to learn it and become at home with it."

This thesis is obviously closely related to Jordan's thesis #4 mentioned in my previous posts. We shouldn't apologize to unbelievers or new Christians for our use of traditional liturgy and/or ancient church practices.

Wait a minute and I'll check with the celebration architect to see if he has any good ideas about this!

Theses on Worship--Part 3

In Theses on Worship, author Jim Jordan further clarifies his position that Sunday morning worship should be predominantly for Christians. (See this post for the introduction to this idea.)

First, he highlights two seemingly contradictory statements in scripture. Matthew 5: 16 says, "Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." Matthew 6: 1 says, "Beware of practising your righteousness before men to be noticed by them; otherwise you have no reward with your Father who is in heaven." Jordan contends that this conflict is resolved by first understanding that we do good works for purposes of evangelism, NOT for the praise of men. Secondly, he states that Matthew 5 is speaking of public works, and Matthew 6 refers to private works (eg. almsgiving, prayer, fasting).

Next, Jordan reiterates that unbelievers won't be turned away, but that the Sunday morning worship service is not an evangelistic event. We should not even try to accomodate other Christians who may not understand our form of worship. He says, "We don't worship to be seen of men, but if men are going to watch us anyway, we should not compromise for them. The more uncompromisedly Biblical we are, the better the 'witness' is."

I see too many churches today trying to appeal to man rather than God. There's too much "me" and not enough "Him." I think Jordan makes a very good case for his argument.