"All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name"

The English author of this hymn, Edward Perronet (1726-1792), descended from a distinguished family of French Huguenots who fled religious persecution and settled in England. He was ordained in the Anglican church, and worked alongside John and Charles Wesley. He wrote several hymns, but this is the only one that remains in general use today.

Here is an interesting story about Perronet that should make you smile:

John Wes­ley was al­ways try­ing to get him to preach, but Per­ro­net, though cap­a­ble, was some­what in awe of Wes­ley, and al­ways de­ferred to him. Any time John Wes­ley was pre­sent, Per­ro­net felt Wesley should do the preach­ing. But John Wes­ley was not one to take “no” for an an­swer. So, one day, in the mid­dle of a meet­ing, he simp­ly an­nounced, “Bro­ther Per­ro­net will now speak.” Think­ing quick­ly, Per­ro­net stood be­fore the large crowd and de­clared, “I will now de­liv­er the great­est ser­mon ev­er preached on earth” (you can imag­ine he got ev­er­y­one’s at­ten­tion). He then read the Ser­mon on the Mount, and sat down.

To hear the accompaniment, read all of the verses, and read the entire article about Perronet, go here.

All hail the power of Jesus' name!
Let angels prostrate fall;
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown Him Lord of all!
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown Him Lord of all!

The Bloom

My best friend from high school, Gwyn, drove out here last week to bring some of my dad's furniture that she had been storing at her house for me. She also brought my dad's Christmas cactus.

Now, when I was growing up, Dad never exhibited a green thumb. In fact, because of his asthma and hay fever, he didn't even mow the lawn. I have a picture of me trying valiantly to use our push lawnmower when I was five, but it was actually one of my brothers who mowed the lawn regularly.

When Dad's mother died in 1977, he inherited, among other things, a very bedraggled Christmas cactus. He took it upon himself to nurse it back to health, perhaps as a metaphor for his own life that was, at that time, struggling on many fronts. With fierce determination, Dad resurrected that cactus into a huge, healthy, beautiful plant which he grew to love. I think he even named it.

When my friend brought it into our house last week, after dutifully caring for it these past two years, I was delighted to see a lone pinkish-reddish bud on its slender arms. The bud opened a few days after my friend left to return home, and was still open yesterday, the anniversary of my dad's last few hours on this earth. Then, this morning when I awoke, the flower had fallen from the plant and lay silently in the soil.


Shed no tear--O shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Weep no more--O weep no more!
Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
John Keats

Memories and Gratitude

It has been two years, almost to the minute, since my Dad's passing. It was May 24th here in the Mountain Time Zone, but May 25th where he lived in the Eastern Time Zone.

In some respects it seems like he's been gone such a long time. Yet, my last phone conversation with him seems like it was just last week. That was the last time he ever talked on the telephone. He was being prepared for emergency surgery, and he had to hang up so he could be wheeled to the operating room.

Catherine Marshall wrote in her book, A Man Called Peter, about the comfort of the last words she spoke to her husband. She had said to him, "Darling, I'll see you in the morning." She wrote about the thoughts she had a few months later, "And as I stood looking out toward that far horizon, I knew that those words would go singing in my heart down all the years..."

My last words to my dad were, "I love you, Dad. I'll talk to you when you're done." The words have gone "singing in my heart" these past two years. I sometimes have despair about my dad's salvation, but I also have hope that I will indeed talk to him again. And for him, it'll seem but a moment until we speak again.

Three things I am grateful I received from my dad:
1. His love of music
2. His love of the prairie
3. His love of history

(Here's another recent post about him.)

"All Creatures of Our God and King"

In our continuing quest for a new church home, we have been attending the same church now since Easter Sunday. While hubby and son were having church with their Boy Scout troop on a camping trip in the mountains, my daughter and I sang this wonderful hymn as the recessional at church this morning. (I absolutely love singing the alto part!) The words were written by St. Francis of Assisi, circa 1225. The melody appeared in a German hymnal published in 1623, and the harmonization was added in 1906 by the British composer, Ralph Vaughan Williams. (The church pictured here is the parish church where Vaughan Williams's father was vicar.)

Go here for the accompaniment (including the cool alto part!).

All Creatures of Our God and King

All creatures of our God and King
Lift up your voice and with us sing,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thou burning sun with golden beam,
Thou silver moon with softer gleam!

Refrain

O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Thou rushing wind that art so strong
Ye clouds that sail in Heaven along,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou rising moon, in praise rejoice,
Ye lights of evening, find a voice!

Refrain

Thou flowing water, pure and clear,
Make music for thy Lord to hear,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou fire so masterful and bright,
That givest man both warmth and light.

Refrain

Let all things their Creator bless,
And worship Him in humbleness,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Praise, praise the Father, praise the Son,
And praise the Spirit, Three in One!

Refrain

Mother's Day

That night Anne...knelt sweetly by her open window in a great sheen of moonshine and murmured a prayer of gratitude and aspiration that came straight from her heart. There was in it thankfulness for the past and reverent petition for the future...
(from Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery)

I recently read these words to my children about Anne taking first place in the college entrance exam. I thought, this is very much how I view motherhood. I am thankful for the past; for God's perfect plan for creating our family in His own time and way. And at the same time, I humbly ask Him for guidance for the future.

After 11 years of waiting, of heartbreak, of longings unanswered; the Lord filled my aching arms and soothed my aching heart. I am thankful beyond measure for my two precious children. Only the Lord of the Universe could have ordained such a treasure for us in the way that He did.

(Thanks also to Holt International Children's Services and United Airlines for playing a part! The photo above is of Harry and Bertha Holt, founders of the adoption agency that bears their name.)

"The King of Love My Shepherd Is"

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. Psalm 23:1 (NKJV)

On some church calendars, Psalm 23 is read as part of today's liturgy on this
fourth Sunday of Easter. I love this Psalm for its power, its truth, its comfort, and its ability to minister to believers and unbelievers alike.

This hymn, based upon the 23rd Psalm, was written by Henry W. Baker (1821-1877). He was an English musician and the editor of the best-selling Hymns, Ancient and Modern, published from 1860 to 1877.

Go here to hear the music which is based upon an old Irish melody. There is also an alternate tune at this link.

The King of Love My Shepherd Is

The King of love my Shepherd is,
Whose goodness faileth never,
I nothing lack if I am His
And He is mine forever.

Where streams of living water flow
My ransomed soul He leadeth,
And where the verdant pastures grow,
With food celestial feedeth.

Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,
But yet in love He sought me,
And on His shoulder gently laid,
And home, rejoicing, brought me.

In death’s dark vale I fear no ill
With Thee, dear Lord, beside me;
Thy rod and staff my comfort still,
Thy cross before to guide me.

Thou spread’st a table in my sight;
Thy unction grace bestoweth;
And O what transport of delight
From Thy pure chalice floweth!

And so through all the length of days
Thy goodness faileth never;
Good Shepherd, may I sing Thy praise
Within Thy house forever.

Let Them Have Dominion

Then God said, "Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth." Genesis 1: 26

The kids and I drove to a friends' ranch this past Saturday for the branding of this spring's new calves. Many family and fellow rancher friends came to help, followed by a big lunch provided by the host family. This will be repeated in the weeks to come, as each rancher makes the rounds helping his fellow "neighbors."

As we returned from the branding pasture, two horses in a different pasture adjacent to the house ran alongside the fence, "welcoming" us back to the ranch house as we drove down the lane. They were almost like little children excitedly waiting for Daddy to come home at the end of a long day. Then later, I was able to coax a motherless calf to allow me to pet her. She was a little wary, but she stayed fairly still and let me walk slowly up to her and pet her.

These animals, who are not pets in the traditional sense, have the interest and desire to relate to humans, even sometimes in spite of their instincts to the contrary. It reminds me a little of Isaiah 11:6,

The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb,
The leopard shall lie down with the young goat,
The calf and the young lion and the fatling together;
And a little child shall lead them.

"I Know That My Redeemer Lives"

Samuel Medley (1738-1799), the author of this hymn, was a midshipman in the British Royal Navy. While recuperating from wounds sustained in battle, Medley heard a sermon by Isaac Watts. This led to Medley's conversion, and he eventually became a minister in England.

The kids and I are reading through the story of Joseph in Genesis, and each time I read it I am profoundly reminded of God's hand in all things, even when they seem to be horrible misfortunes. The life of Samuel Medley appears to be yet another example of God's providence.

(Statue of "Christ the Redeemer" in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil)


"I Know That My Redeemer Lives"

I know that my Redeemer lives;
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, He lives, who once was dead;
He lives, my ever living Head.

He lives to bless me with His love,
He lives to plead for me above.
He lives my hungry soul to feed,
He lives to help in time of need.

He lives triumphant from the grave,
He lives eternally to save,
He lives all glorious in the sky,
He lives exalted there on high.

He lives to grant me rich supply,
He lives to guide me with His eye,
He lives to comfort me when faint,
He lives to hear my soul’s complaint.

He lives to silence all my fears,
He lives to wipe away my tears
He lives to calm my troubled heart,
He lives all blessings to impart.

He lives, my kind, wise, heavenly Friend,
He lives and loves me to the end;
He lives, and while He lives, I’ll sing;
He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King.

He lives and grants me daily breath;
He lives, and I shall conquer death:
He lives my mansion to prepare;
He lives to bring me safely there.

He lives, all glory to His Name!
He lives, my Jesus, still the same.
Oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives,
I know that my Redeemer lives!

"Lift Up Your Heads, Ye Mighty Gates"

The church we visited today opened with the processional hymn, "Christ Is Alive! Let Christians Sing." The words were written in 1969, sung to the tune of a much older hymn, "Lift Up Your Heads, Ye Mighty Gates". (This link has the music and text for all of the verses of "Lift Up Your Heads.")

Today I thought I would especially meditate upon the third verse. Sometimes it's easy for verses to get lost in these rich hymn texts laden with so much to ponder.

Fling wide the portals of your heart;
Make it a temple, set apart
From earthly use for heaven’s employ,
Adorned with prayer and love and joy.

"Christ the Lord Is Risen Today"

Go here to listen to the melody of this beloved Easter hymn by Charles Wesley.
(above painting by Rembrandt, The Risen Christ Appearing to Mary Magdalen)

Christ the Lord Is Risen Today

Christ, the Lord, is risen today, Alleluia!
Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heavens, and earth, reply, Alleluia!

Love’s redeeming work is done, Alleluia!
Fought the fight, the battle won, Alleluia!
Lo! the Sun’s eclipse is over, Alleluia!
Lo! He sets in blood no more, Alleluia!

Vain the stone, the watch, the seal, Alleluia!
Christ hath burst the gates of hell, Alleluia!
Death in vain forbids His rise, Alleluia!
Christ hath opened paradise, Alleluia!

Lives again our glorious King, Alleluia!
Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!
Once He died our souls to save, Alleluia!
Where thy victory, O grave? Alleluia!

Soar we now where Christ hath led, Alleluia!
Following our exalted Head, Alleluia!
Made like Him, like Him we rise, Alleluia!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia!

Hail, the Lord of earth and Heaven, Alleluia!
Praise to Thee by both be given, Alleluia!
Thee we greet triumphant now, Alleluia!
Hail, the resurrection, thou, Alleluia!

King of glory, Soul of bliss, Alleluia!
Everlasting life is this, Alleluia!
Thee to know, Thy power to prove, Alleluia!
Thus to sing and thus to love, Alleluia!

Hymns of praise then let us sing, Alleluia!
Unto Christ, our heavenly King, Alleluia!
Who endured the cross and grave, Alleluia!
Sinners to redeem and save. Alleluia!

But the pains that He endured, Alleluia!
Our salvation have procured, Alleluia!
Now above the sky He’s King, Alleluia!
Where the angels ever sing. Alleluia!

Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia!
Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia!
Who did once upon the cross, Alleluia!
Suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia!

Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

Today would have been your 78th birthday. I really miss you. I miss calling you every weekend. I miss talking about teaching and music. I miss telling you how spring is going in Colorado. I wish you could have heard me play the Leningrad. I actually got to do it! Can you believe it?

Did you see how I put your clarinet on top of one of the bookcases in the dining room next to the old horn? I like seeing it every day. I even kept your reed on the mouthpiece. And sometimes at night, I listen to Stan Getz and Paul Desmond to remind me of you.

You know, Dad, today is Good Friday. When you were lying in that hospital bed at the end, did you think about Jesus? Did you ever admit that He is who He said He was? I prayed so hard that you did. I cried so hard for you.

I don't know if you remember, but there was one thief crucified on either side of Jesus. One of the thieves, as he hung on a cross next to Jesus, believed in Jesus at the very end of his life. I really pray that you did, too.

I love you, Dad. I miss you.


Love,
Your Little Bird

The Fragrance of the Son

For we are to God the fragrance of Christ among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.
2 Corinthians 2:15 (NKJV)

Living in Colorado, we use flannel sheets on our beds for about half of the year. Just this week, I was able to put away the flannel sheets until fall, and make our bed with "regular" sheets. When I lay my head down on the newly made bed of regular sheets that first night, I smelled the unmistakable fragrance of the sun. It's precisely this wonderful smell that makes it worthwhile for me to hang our clothes outside during the warmer months, but these sheets hadn't seen the sun in six months! Perhaps it was the lavender sachet in the linen closet that helped, but I marveled at how the sheets I had hung on the line last October still reminded me of that wonderful essence of Colorado sunshine.

When you think about it, the Bible mentions fragrance quite often. "An aroma pleasing to the Lord" in Old Testament sacrifices, the gifts of the Magi to the young Jesus, Mary (sister of Lazarus and Martha) anointing Jesus' feet (John 12) shortly before the triumphal entry, and the women coming to the tomb to anoint Jesus' body (Mark 16), just to name a few. The verse above was not one I had remembered in my Bible study, but it's certainly one to take to heart.

Thank you, Lord, for miraculously retaining that sunshine smell, and for reminding me of the fragrance of our Lord, which lasts so very much longer. Help me to be a fragrance of Christ for those who are perishing.

(Thanks to this web page for the picture above. It's got an interesting article about hand washing clothes in the past, too. And then for a bit of humor and a touch of sadness, go to this site to read all about the clothes drying covenants in Montgomery Village, Maryland, "One of the First Beautifully Planned Communities in the United States.")

"All Glory, Laud and Honor"

Palm Sunday is always bittersweet. How can we fully enjoy celebrating His triumphal entry when we know what is coming? We remember that the fickleness of our hearts is no different than the shouts of "Hosanna, blessed is He...the King" on one day, and "Crucify Him!" less than a week later.

This hymn stands as one of the most recognized traditional Palm Sunday hymns. As you sing these words, ponder the plight of their author, Theodulph of Orleans. This Italian nobleman, turned abbott, then Bishop, was unjustly imprisoned when a new king began ruling in France. The hymn was written from Theodulph's prison cell ca 820, where he died one year later. For the most traditional melody, go here.

"All Glory, Laud and Honor"

All glory, laud and honor,
To Thee, Redeemer, King,
To Whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.
Thou art the King of Israel,
Thou David’s royal Son,
Who in the Lord’s Name comest,
The King and Blessèd One.


The company of angels
Are praising Thee on High,
And mortal men and all things
Created make reply.
The people of the Hebrews
With palms before Thee went;
Our prayer and praise and anthems
Before Thee we present.


To Thee, before Thy passion,
They sang their hymns of praise;
To Thee, now high exalted,
Our melody we raise.
Thou didst accept their praises;
Accept the prayers we bring,
Who in all good delightest,
Thou good and gracious King.

Sanctity of Life

Terri Shiavo languished just a little over a year ago, starved to death by her "husband's" command. I still can't believe it was allowed to happen. The Terri Schindler Schiavo Foundation has some recent updates if you're interested.


It's easy to think Terri's was an isolated case; an anomoly. But, look at this article from the Denver Post. A disabled child who lived in my area was starved to death last year. His parents live in the same suburb as I do. The pastor mentioned in the article is on the staff at a church just 6 minutes away from my house. And our society is becoming alarmingly callous to this sort of thing. Several people wrote letters to the editor after the story ran, about how difficult a decision this was for the parents of the boy, how loving they were, and how sensitive the article was. How can knowingly starving your child to death be considered loving or sensitive?

The lengthy article is chilling in its bias towards the parents, mentioning their heroism and love for their son. The parents and the newspaper decided ahead of time not to publish the story until the boy died, so the general public knew nothing of this drama unfolding in our midst. Here is just a snippet of the article:

In a small examination room, the parents laid out their wish to end their son's suffering. The two ethics consultants, a doctor and a nurse, asked if they'd explored all known medical avenues. The neurologist explained the futility of treatment. The pediatrician described Dave and Kerri's commitment to their son as heroic.

Satisfied, the ethics committee members concurred that the hospital could support removal of life support - in this case food - as an ethical option.

According to the article, the four year old boy was severely disabled with Cerebral Palsy, and his condition was worsening. The "life support" that was removed was his feeding tube. He was starved to death! Any human being on earth would die if this type of "life support" were denied us! I have a younger brother with moderate Cerebral Palsy. He lives with frustrating physical challenges on a daily basis. But he is no less a person. He was created by God, just as was I. Removing food from a disabled person is barbaric. Removing food from anyone is barbaric.

"What Wondrous Love Is This?"

Many of my favorite hymns come from England and Germany, but this is an American Folk hymn. Its authorship is attributed to several different men, but perhaps the most well known is William Walker (1809-1875), who collected and arranged many folk tunes from the South.

This hymn was written using shape-note notation, which was developed during the 19th century to help teach people how to read music. The current version of the hymn found in most hymnals of today has been arranged to place the melody in the soprano line. However, if you go here and click on the "midi" link, you will hear the hymn in its original version, which sounds quite different. Either way, the hymn has a plaintive quality to it which, along with the text, is well suited for Lent.

What Wondrous Love Is This?

What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul, for my soul,
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul.

When I was sinking down, sinking down, sinking down,
When I was sinking down, sinking down,
When I was sinking down beneath God’s righteous frown,
Christ laid aside His crown for my soul, for my soul,
Christ laid aside His crown for my soul.

To God and to the Lamb, I will sing, I will sing;
To God and to the Lamb, I will sing.
To God and to the Lamb Who is the great “I Am”;
While millions join the theme, I will sing, I will sing;
While millions join the theme, I will sing.

And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on, I’ll sing on;
And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on.
And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing and joyful be;
And through eternity, I’ll sing on, I’ll sing on;
And through eternity, I’ll sing on.