Four Years

It's four years now since my dad passed away.

Dad wasn't perfect. There were hurts in our family while I was growing up, as a result of some of Dad's actions. Some of those wounds were healed before he died, and for that I am most grateful.

He never gave any indication that he was a believer, so that part is difficult. I never prayed so hard for him as I did when he lay in the hospital a half a country away from me in his last days. I have a calm about it now. I wouldn't go so far as to say a peace, but I don't freak out about it. I pray that God saved my dad from the jaws of eternal punishment at the last minute. Which is kind of funny now that I think about it, because my dad was always late for everything. Maybe, by God's grace, he barely squeaked into heaven.

You know, in a way I guess we ALL actually barely squeak into heaven. Based upon our own merit, none of us would be there. But then, for some unknown reason, God chooses us. Imperfect, sinful us. Plucked from the pit and raised up. A most amazing gift.

"Come Down, O Love Divine"

I posted this hymn last year because we had sung it in church and I loved the alto part. Now, our church is going Emergent and Seeker Friendly. Our family is mourning the loss of rich liturgy and hymns, so I wanted to post this hymn again.

I wrote this last year:
As I reflect over the past year, I see the events that have shaped me: our son's hospitalization and recovery from a broken leg, persecution from some family members, my mother's near death experience, and our daughter's grief over adoption/loss issues. Whew! What a year it's been! I have been sustained by the Holy Spirit, Who prayed for me when I could only groan. Praise God for His infinite mercy!

It hardly seems like a whole year has passed since I wrote that. Some issues are fading. Others are still uppermost in my daily life. Thankfully, the Holy Spirit continues to sustain me through it all.

"Come Down, O Love Divine"

Come down, O love divine,
seek thou this soul of mine,
and visit it with thine own ardor glowing;
O Comforter, draw near,
within my heart appear,
and kindle it, thy holy flame bestowing.

O let it freely burn,
till earthly passions turn
to dust and ashes in its heat consuming;
and let thy glorious light
shine ever on my sight,
and clothe me round, the while my path illuming.

Let holy charity
mine outward vesture be,
and lowliness become mine inner clothing;
true lowliness of heart,
which takes the humbler part,
and o'er its own shortcomings weeps with loathing.

And so the yearning strong,
with which the soul will long,
shall far outpass the power of human telling;
for none can guess its grace,
till Love create a place
wherein the Holy Spirit makes a dwelling.

Branded

My daughter and I went to our friends' ranch for their annual calf branding on Saturday. The calves waiting to be branded huddled together in the farthest reaches of their pen as the cowboys rode in atop their horses. The calves shied away, but the skillful ranchers were able to deftly (and magically) get their ropes around the calves' back legs and pull them out of the pen. Some calves immediately rolled over on their backs, which made the dragging out much easier on them. Others fought it with all their strength. They pawed the ground in futility with their front legs until finally they, too, succumbed and were flipped over on their backs.

Once on the ground, the calf was suddenly held down by a couple of men. A team darted in for the shot, the brand, cauterizing of the horns, pouring of the liquid that will keep the flies off the tender skin at the brand site, (and castration, for the males). It's usually over before the calf knows what hit them. They are patted on the rump and sent off with the others to wait until they can be released to pair up with their mothers.

I got to thinking that this is a lot like God calling us to Himself. Of course, He's the skillful one atop the horse. We're the ones cowering in the corner, unsure of that Presence in our midst. He magically catches us and takes us to a place where at first glance, there is lots of pain. But it turns out that the pain is for our own good. It is a part of life, and it is what helps us to thrive. And although it appears we are released to resume our old life, we are forever changed.

We are His.

(photo taken at the Saturday branding)

As the Family Farm Goes...

...so goes the country.

I just finished reading a novel, In a Pickle, by Jerry Apps. It takes place in Wisconsin during 1955-56. Big ag is slowly worming its way into family farms. The ones that will let them, anyway. Not the best book I've read, but he hit on a few truths. One of the characters muses upon the differences in farming when big ag takes over:

Farming would turn from growing food to producing a product. The land would no longer be something special but just another kind of factory. Inputs and outputs. Seed, fertilizer, and water in. Corn, cucumbers, potatoes, wheat, and oats out. The factory way. Measure the inputs. Measure the outputs. Farmer as factory worker, machine operator, and technician rather than steward, custodian, and caretaker.

One of the characters is widowed and must sell off her farm. About 25 years ago, my husband and I attended one such auction. Partly I wanted to be able to legally be on a farm for a time. I was also hoping to find an inexpensive antique for our apartment. But, I was struck by the sadness of it all. A lifetime of memories stuffed in boxes and laying on tables. All for sale. I fell in love with a milking stool, but I just couldn't bring myself to buy it. What right did I have to take this stool that could tell many a story? It felt like the stealing of a memory. Listen to how the author of the book described the widow at the auction:

Iris Clayton stood alone, watching her life on the farm being sold piece by piece, animal by animal. Memories flooded over her, of milking the cows that now were numbered to be sold--cows that she knew by name, Susan and Florence, Sally and Lilly, Amanda and Polly. She knew each one, knew her personality, how she wanted to be milked, what she liked to eat, how much milk she gave. Information that no one else cared about, private information that she held and cherished. How do you sell a memory? she wondered. The tears continued down her face.

Ultimately, the book has a hopeful ending. Although the reader laments the lives ruined by corporate intrusion, the main character is able to make some changes on his farm on his own terms, and he keeps his land and continues to farm.

As I read blogs written by Christians who farm, and I seek to slowly increase our own little suburban vegetable patch, I thank God for His creation and His provision. And may He richly bless the hard work of those who continue to farm and ranch for His glory.

I Vow to Thee, My Country

British composer, Gustav Holst (1874-1934), has been on my mind this past week. He is probably best known for his orchestral composition, The Planets. Holst was one of my dad's favorite composers, due to his two Suites for band. I was privileged to play one of those this past Friday. The writing is just wonderful and it was a nice thing to do to commemorate my dad's birthday week.

I found this hymn, put to a melody from The Planets. It seemed appropriate for my past week of thinking of my dad and Holst. And, too, the words are very appropriate for James. He is the young man from Iowa who was killed in Afghanistan in 2004. His community had a motorcycle ride today to commemorate his life. They followed it with a visit to the cemetery and a chili supper. The event raises money for a scholarship fund in James's name. The words of this hymn seem appropriate for this event, as well.

(This hymn was also a favorite of Princess Diana's. It was sung at both her wedding and her funeral.)

May God continue to comfort James's family in the loss of their son, brother, uncle.


I Vow to Thee, My Country


I vow to thee, my country—all earthly things above—
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;
The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.

And there’s another country, I’ve heard of long ago—
Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;
We may not count her armies, we may not see her King;
Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,
And her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace.

Comfort

"All that the Father gives Me will come to Me, and the one who comes to Me I will by no means cast out."
John 6:37 NKJV

I read this verse this morning and found it to be a comfort for the entire day. When Dad was in ICU in his last days, I prayed for him to come to God as a child. One of the gifts God has given me is a lack of despair about Dad's soul. I pray that my dad was one of those whom the Father gave to Jesus.

Leader of the Band

Lee Cadle McMillen
April 14, 1928 - May 25, 2004

This song from Dan Fogelberg (1951-2007) is in memory of my dad, who would have been 80 years old today. Dad had many of his finest moments upon a podium.

Leader of the Band

The leader of the band is tired
And his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through
My instrument
And his song is in my soul --
My life has been a poor attempt
To imitate the man
I'm just a living legacy
To the leader of the band
I am the living legacy
To the leader of the band.


Dear Dad,
I pray that you are in heaven, leading wonderful musicians, praising our Lord.

Creation

Over spring break, the kids and I worked on a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle, and it took us into the next week to complete it.

As I was putting it away in the box I thought of God's creation. He thought it all up. He made it out of nothing. It's 3-D (or maybe more). He did it in six days.

Our puzzle was a photograph taken by someone else, and made by someone else. It was only 2-D. And it took us longer than a week to complete.

The only thing that was similar was this: It doesn't take us humans very long to mess up either a jigsaw puzzle or God's creation.

Spring Break

Overheard in our house this week...while one parent was lying on the couch reading and sipping wine, and the other one was 'slaving' in the kitchen..."When do home school moms get spring break?"

Then, I ran across this from Peter Kreeft's The God Who Loves You:
We moderns often tend to forget eternal necessities since our lives are surrounded by human artifices, changing and changeable things.

I thought, Aha! This is why I desire to live a simpler life in the country. I want to get away from a life full of human artifices. I want to flee these 'changing and changeable things' and be closer to that which does not change. That which is of God and IS God.

Spring Break is a human artifice. Now, I'd like a Year of Jubilee as much as the next guy. But, Spring Break is not guaranteed in Scripture. Instead of grumbling that I don't get a vacation I need to be thankful for my many God-given blessings.

(By the way, I look NOTHING like this when I am in the kitchen!)

Simplify?

Simplify. It's a common refrain among people these days. It makes sense.

Today I was shopping at our neighborhood craft store for school supplies with our son. I came across a wooden sign, about 20 inches across, made up of the letters: S I M P L I F Y.

If you're trying to pare down, why would you want to buy a sign to clutter your house that reminds you to simplify?

Simplify.

He Is Risen

I stayed home from church today, to be with our dog, who had surgery on Friday. After reading the Resurrection story in my Bible, I listened to our classical radio station and got to hear lots of wonderful Bach music. Here is a snippet of Bach's Easter Oratorio.

(Remember to silence the music on the sidebar to the right before listening to the Bach piece.)

Bach's Easter Oratorio

Good Friday

This past Sunday, our Bible readings included the portion of scripture where the crowd shouts, "Crucify Him!" The congregation was to read that part, but I just couldn't bring myself to say the words. Even though I knew my sins were heaped upon His head, I simply couldn't utter the words. I sat there and softly cried instead.

After the sermon, we were instructed to come forward and each take three nails to remind us of our sin and God's mercy. As I held these nails in my hands during the remainder of the service, I noticed my hands slowly turning grey. The nails were staining my hands. Even though I hadn't been able to bring myself to join in on the words condemning Jesus to death, I had the remnants of His suffering on my hands anyway.

St. Patrick

"Christ with me, Christ before me,
Christ behind me, Christ in me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every person who thinks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.”

(from “The Breastplate of St. Patrick”).

"All Glory, Laud, and Honor"

Theodulph of Orleans (760-821), born in Italy, was appointed as a Bishop in France at the age of 21. When a new ruler came into power, Theodulph was suspected of maintaining a secret loyalty to Italy, and was thus imprisoned in 818 (where he remained until his death three years later). Theodulph was sustained by his faith while in prison, and wrote the words to this inspiring Palm Sunday hymn.

"All Glory, Laud, and Honor"

Refrain

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.

Refrain

The company of angels
Are praising Thee on High,
And mortal men and all things
Created make reply.

Refrain

The people of the Hebrews
With palms before Thee went;
Our prayer and praise and anthems
Before Thee we present.

Refrain

To Thee, before Thy passion,
They sang their hymns of praise;
To Thee, now high exalted,
Our melody we raise.

Refrain

Thou didst accept their praises;
Accept the prayers we bring,
Who in all good delightest,
Thou good and gracious King.

Refrain

Company With Jesus

I love to read, but I don't remember nearly as much as I'd like. When, however, I seem to read similar thoughts in different sources (and I remember the comparison), I figure God is trying to tell me something.

Here are two things I've run across recently:

"There is only 'one thing necessary'...always ask what God wants me to do and then do it."

from The God Who Loves You
by Peter Kreeft

"Think of the satisfaction it will be to hear Jesus say--'Well done, good and faithful servant'; to know that you have done what He sent you to do. We have all to find our niche in life, and spiritually we find it when we receive our ministry from the Lord. In order to do this we must have companied with Jesus; we must know Him as more than a personal Saviour."

from My Utmost for His Highest (March 5)
Oswald Chambers


Life is hard, but we (more accurately, I) make it more difficult than it need be. We ask God what He wants us to do, and then we do it. We company with Jesus. People don't talk like that any more. But, the words company and companion come from the Latin com-, meaning with or together + panis, meaning bread or food. I suppose we could take that literally to mean availing ourselves of the Lord's Supper regularly. But, I think we can also take it to mean that we live a life so close to Jesus, that it's like we share every meal with Him. Which, of course, we do, if we would but recognize it.