Transitory Things

Excerpts from The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis
Book 1 Chapter 11
Of Seeking Peace of Mind and of Spiritual Progress

We may enjoy abundance of peace if we refrain from busying ourselves with the sayings and doings of others, and things which concern not ourselves. How can he abide a long time in peace who occupieth himself with other men's matters, and with things without himself, and meanwhile payeth little or rare heed to the self within?...We are too much occupied with our own affections, and too anxious about transitory things.

Standing in line this afternoon, I was reminded of the assault of the celebrities in the grocery store check-out lanes. The cover of one periodical pronounces that Brad has been kicked out of the house. Another opines that Angelina is pregnant and they are planning their fabulous wedding. Stars without make-up. Stars with tons of make-up and touched up photos. Unfaithful spouses. Divorces. Diets. Dating. Not dating. On and on...

You know what? I! Don't! Care!

You think I want to know Drew Barrymore's opinion on...anything?

Nope.

Just sell me some clean, healthy food that I can take home to my family. And please don't make me explain what a le*bian is to my daughter while we wait in the check-out line.

Yet another reason to grow your own groceries.

And a Battery

Easter Sunday I sat with some of the little ones as they ate their snacks after the service. One little girl in particular was very talkative. She had on her new Easter dress and was quite proud of her new little pink purse. While she carried her food to the table, I carried her purse. (Which was quite heavy, by the way!)

Adrianna: See my new purse?

Me: It's very pretty! I like the pink color, and the sequins.
What do you have in your purse?

Adrianna: Some lipstick. And some bubble bath.

Me: Those are good things to have with you.

Adrianna: And a battery.

Me: Why do you have a battery?

Adrianna: Because I like batteries!

There you have it. Out of the mouth of a pre-schooler. The three essentials to carry in your purse.

On Easter Sunday, why not carry bubble bath in your purse?! Jesus washed away our sins by His death and resurrection. We are made clean through Him. As for the battery, I suppose you can say it signifies that we get our energy from Him. We are a useless shell that doesn't work without Him to fuel us.

And the lipstick? It reminds us that no matter how much we try to gussie ourselves up, God see us for who we truly are. He sees into the depths of our souls. And He died for us anyway. He died for us BECAUSE of those things!

"Christ Jesus Lay in Death's Strong Bands"

I happened upon this Easter hymn while perusing a hymnal from my collection. Words by Martin Luther (1483-1546), and music adapted and harmonized by Bach (1685-1750) from a German melody written in 1524. How can you go wrong? It's a bit difficult to sing on the first go around, even with the music in front of you, but it's worth listening to.

"Christ Jesus Lay in Death's Strong Bands"

Christ Jesus lay in death’s strong bands,
For our offenses given;
But now at God’s right hand He stands,
And brings us life from Heaven.
Wherefore let us joyful be,
And sing to God right thankfully
Loud songs of Alleluia! Alleluia!

Here the true Paschal Lamb we see,
Whom God so freely gave us;
He died on the accursed tree—
So strong His love!—to save us.
See, His blood doth mark our door;
Faith points to it, Death passes over,
And Satan cannot harm us. Alleluia!

So let us keep the festival
Where to the Lord invites us;
Christ is Himself the joy of all,
The Sun that warms and lights us.
By His grace He doth impart
Eternal sunshine to the heart;
The night of sin is ended! Alleluia!

You can go here to listen to the wonderful melody and read all of the verses. Unfortunately, I think there's a wrong note in the next to last measure, so you'll have to overlook that. Also, just be forewarned that there is a painting a bit of the way down the page. It's of Jesus in the tomb, with two disciples looking at Him. As long as you're ready for it, I suppose it isn't quite so startling.

Unexpected Surprises

My dad would have been 81 today. He's been gone from this world now for nearly five years. One of my brothers remarked just yesterday that it seems far longer. It feels that way for me, too.

I still have mostly good memories and for that I am thankful. Time has a way of softening the rough edges of the bad memories. One of my good memories involves Dad and I shopping at a bookstore for a birthday present for my older brother. Dad bought me a paperback copy of Jane Eyre (for 95 cents!). That was something that never happened in our family; receiving a gift on the day of another siblings' birthday. It was so amazing, in fact, that I wrote on the title page, below my name: Oct. 16, 1967. I was 12, and the book was too hard for me just yet, but a little over a year later, I read the book and fell in love with it. It was bittersweet reading, however. Mom and Dad had just separated a few weeks before.

Dad's Christmas cactus just bloomed yesterday. A few years ago it bloomed on the anniversary of his passing. I don't think plants understand calendars or anniversaries of any kind. But God sure does.

(I took a photo of the cactus, but don't know how to get it onto the computer. I'll try to get it added to this post soon. And just a little aside. Interestingly, I found out later that Jane Eyre was published on October 16, 1847.)

"Christ The Lord Is Risen Today!"

"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!

(The drawing above is of the Foundry Chapel in London. Originally, an old iron foundry used to make artillery, the building was remodeled for use as a chapel. John Wesley’s words for this hymn were writ­ten for use at the first wor­ship ser­vice at this Wes­ley­an Chap­el.)

"All Glory, Laud, and Honor"

The tune for this Palm Sunday hymn was written by St. Theodolph (760-821), the well-loved Bishop of Orleans, France. When Emperor Charlemagne died in 814, his son and successor (Louis I the Pious) had Theodulph imprisoned. A legend arose that a short time before the bishop's death in 821, Louis was in the area where the bishop was imprisoned. As he passed under Theodulph's cell, the emperor heard singing and worshipping coming from the bishop's cell. When the emperor heard this tune being sung, he was so moved by it that he immediately ordered the bishop's release.

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.

1. Thou art the King of Israel,
thou David's royal Son,
who in the Lord's name comest,
the King and Blessed One.

(Go to the link above to see all verses.)

The Imitation of Christ - Part 10

Excerpts from The Imitation of Christ - Thomas a Kempis
Book 1 Chapter 10
Of the Danger of Superfluity of Words

Avoid as far as thou canst the tumult of men; for talk concerning worldy things, though it be innocently undertaken, is a hindrance, so quickly are we led captive and defiled by vanity.

Therefore must we watch and pray that time pass not idly away. If it be right and desirable for thee to speak, speak things which are to edification.

Nevertheless, devout conversation on spiritual things helpeth not a little to spiritual progress, most of all where those of kindred mind and spirit find their ground of fellowship in God.

How I am convicted of harsh words uttered from my lips. Even this day. And how very, very thankful I am for friends of "kindred mind and spirit" with whom I can fellowship.

(Photo of nuns at St. Walburga Abbey. I have visited here, and never fail to come away a changed person. This photo originally appeared in an article from the Ft. Collins, Colorado, newspaper. I found it on this blog and am borrowing (?) it.

"My Song Is Love Unknown"

This hymn was written by Englishman Samuel Crossman (1624-1683). Upon graduation from seminary, Crossman "min­is­tered to both an An­gli­can con­gre­ga­tion at All Saints, Sud­bu­ry, and to a Puritan con­gre­ga­tion simultaneously. Cross­man sym­pa­thized with the Pur­i­tan cause, and at­tend­ed the 1661 Savoy Conference, which at­tempt­ed to up­date the Book of Common Prayer so that both Pur­i­tans and An­gli­cans could use it. The con­fer­ence failed, and the 1662 Act of Un­i­form­i­ty ex­pelled Crossman along with some 2,000 other Puritan-leaning min­is­ters from the Church of England. He renounced his Puritan affiliations short­ly af­terward, and was or­dained in 1665." (from Wikipedia)

My favorite tune for this hymn was written by John Ireland (1879-1962) which can be heard here. This low-tech video is of an organist playing the hymn in his quaint little church. It's worth watching, especially if you dream about going to a small country church. With an organ. Where you sing hymns. In parts.

I have included the text of the first and last verses below. If you wish to read all seven verses, go here.

My Song Is Love Unknown

My song is love unknown,
My Saviour’s love to me;
Love to the loveless shown,
That they might lovely be.
O who am I, that for my sake
My Lord should take frail flesh and die?

Here might I stay and sing,
No story so divine;
Never was love, dear King!
Never was grief like Thine.
This is my Friend, in Whose sweet praise
I all my days could gladly spend.

(The picture above comes from the website for Bristol Cathedral, England. This is the Chapter House, built 1150-1165, for the monks. Crossman was buried at the cathedral.)

Truths

The disciples found out on Easter morning, He is not here. Neither is He in the temple anymore. He is in us.

Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price.
1 Corinthians 6:19-20a

Here is a link to today's broadcast of Sing for Joy for some nice music on this third Sunday in Lent.

(Photo of the existing western wall of the outer court of the temple in Jerusalem, from Library of Congress prints. This photo was taken sometime between 1898 and 1914.)

Okra and Mercy

I've only eaten okra once, and that was enough to convince me that I don't like it. We ended up with a one pound bag of frozen okra that never made it to the stove top. Instead, it has been promoted to (drum roll, please): ice pack. Yes, folks. Providing far more than its potential nutritional value, it has nursed bruises, sprains, and nebulous owies for several years now. I was going to post about Haydn this evening. Well, actually...about how little I know about the stars. But here I sit at the computer with a bag of frozen okra on my knee. (I wonder how many times Haydn and okra make it into the same paragraph??)

Bedtime reading for the kids tonight was supposed to be Farmer Boy. I had only just begun the chapter about the horse thieves and the strange dog when our own dog, Lady, barked quite vehemently at the back sliding door. My son and I came to investigate what was making our usually calm dog so agitated. We spied a dog - no leash, no master - nosing around in the greenbelt area behind our house. Our daughter came downstairs, and as she is sometimes wont to do, she riled Lady up even more. Lady turned around so quickly that she banged into my knee quite hard, and gave me a big old bruise.

It hurt like the dickens, so I sent the offending "riler" up to bed, without any more Laura Ingalls Wilder. The "rilee" continued to bark at the stray, and my son went to get his pellet gun. Just in case.

I had just read this morning from Deuteronomy 32:2:

Let my teaching fall like rain
and my words descend like dew,
like showers on new grass,
like abundant rain on tender plants.

I would like to say that I consciously thought of that verse, but that would be lying. God must have brought it into my heart anyway, because I was able to sit on my daughter's bed a few minutes later and have a far different conversation than I wanted to. Playing the martyr sounded pretty good when I first went upstairs! Throbbing knee, and all.

My daughter felt pretty bad about the whole episode, and wanted me to slap her, of all things. To make it even, she said. Of course I didn't comply. Would hurting you take away my bruise? I asked her. She knew the obvious answer to that question.

We were able to have a conversation about obedience, learning from mistakes, and turning the other cheek. She was able to see that she likes to rile up Lady because it makes her feel in control of something. When she feels out of control regarding being placed for adoption, this makes her want to take control wherever she can. The wind out of her sails, she received my forgiveness, and calmed down. She was then able to come up with some really good ideas of healthy ways to take control of various parts of her life.

I am so thankful that I was able to extend mercy to her when that wasn't my first desire. And it was all because God has extended His perfect mercy to me. He made certain I was primed with patience, mercy, and wisdom from Moses. It's a verse I've read many times before. I've copied it down. Lost it. Written it in journals. This morning, I even wrote it in marker on a piece of paper and taped it where I can see it every day while I sit in the rocker by the fireplace. All, just for this evening.

Amazing when you think of it. Our God IS an awesome God!

Now, let me get this okra back into the freezer. I don't want it to start thawing and get that slime all over everything.

Submission

The Imitation of Christ
Thomas a Kempis
Book 1, Chapter 9
Of Obedience and Submission

"Fancies about places and change of them have deceived many."

This is not something a city girl who longs for the country wants to read. I'd even rather live in a small town than in the suburbs. Maybe it's all the concrete I see every day. Maybe it's that I can go months without seeing our next door neighbors. Maybe it's all the cars I see. Driven by people I don't know.

Kempis speaks in this chapter about obedience. He admonishes us to obey God out of love, and not mere necessity. And yet, it's sometimes difficult to obey and submit without grumbling under our breath, isn't it?

I was just speaking with a fellow ballet mom this evening about her desire to move to the country. I never knew this about her, and here we both were talking excitedly about our mutual dreams of country life. She wants a little house on the property for her daughter to live in, I want one for my mom to live in. She wants to raise sheep, I want to raise alpacas and lavender.

Traversing the concrete to return home, I recounted my many blessings. I will go outside tomorrow and look for swelling buds on the trees, reminding myself that the color green will come to our yard in a few months. I'll look under the dormant lavender plants for volunteer babies that sprouted undetected last summer, and dream of where I can transplant them come spring.

And then maybe I should make some banana bread and take it over to our neighbors.

Happy Arrival Day!

Twelve years ago this evening, I became a mother of two. Our precious daughter was brought to our arms from a half a world away. Her big brother waited, not too patiently, with pink balloons for her to emerge from the long airplane tunnel.

We brought her home to a room with a crib, a rocking chair, and an antique chest serving as a changing table. Now, she's got Jonas Brothers posters, signed Nutcracker posters, stuffed animals, books, a cd player, a fuscia colored canopy, and floral hair pieces from every ballet recital lined up where a wallpaper border would go.

My how time flies. Seems like only yesterday.

Thank you Lord for your perfect timing. Thank you for your strength. Thank you for graciously letting me ride this trail called motherhood.

(Close up of our daughter's hanbok (traditional dress), one of the few things she arrived with from Korea.)

"O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing"

Charles Wesley (1707 - 1788) wrote over 6,000 hymns. Penned in 1739, this hymn celebrates the first anniversary of Wesley's conversion to Christ.

"O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing"

O for a thousand tongues to sing
My great Redeemer’s praise,
The glories of my God and King,
The triumphs of His grace!

My gracious Master and my God,
Assist me to proclaim,
To spread through all the earth abroad
The honors of Thy name.

Jesus! the name that charms our fears,
That bids our sorrows cease;
’Tis music in the sinner’s ears,
’Tis life, and health, and peace.

He breaks the power of canceled sin,
He sets the prisoner free;
His blood can make the foulest clean,
His blood availed for me.

Hear Him, ye deaf; His praise, ye dumb,
Your loosened tongues employ;
Ye blind, behold your Savior come,
And leap, ye lame, for joy.

(St. Andrew's Church in Epworth, England, where Samuel Wesley was rector, and where his sons John and Charles Wesley were born.)

"O Worship the King"

The author of this hymn, Robert Grant (1778-1838), was born in India to British parents. Grant attended school in England, became a lawyer, and followed in his father's footsteps to become a member of Parliament. He returned to India to become the Governor of Bombay in 1834. He died while in India, and was buried there as well.

The melody heard here was written by Johann M. Haydn (1737-1806), brother of composer Franz Joseph Haydn. If you go to Sing for Joy's website you can hear a different melody if you listen to the first hymn of the broadcast. It's got a great choir and a pipe organ. Just wonderful!

O Worship the King

O worship the King, all glorious above,
O gratefully sing His power and His love;
Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of Days,
Pavilioned in splendor, and girded with praise.

O tell of His might, O sing of His grace,
Whose robe is the light, whose canopy space,
His chariots of wrath the deep thunderclouds form,
And dark is His path on the wings of the storm.

Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,
In Thee do we trust, nor find Thee to fail;
Thy mercies how tender, how firm to the end,
Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend.

O measureless might! Ineffable love!
While angels delight to worship Thee above,
The humbler creation, though feeble their lays,
With true adoration shall all sing Thy praise.

(St. Peter's Cemetery, Salzburg, Austria - burial place of Johann Haydn)

Disappointment.

Struggle. Loss. Failure. Heartache.

Not exactly Top Five Goals for the Christian. Or, are they??

Many churches heard Mark 1:21-28 for this past Sunday's gospel reading. Jesus was teaching "with authority" in the synagogue, which amazed the people. Then, Jesus commanded an evil spirit to come out of a man, "Be quiet! Come out of him!" And the people were even more amazed to witness that sight.

Our pastor reminded us Sunday that God's Word is powerful. We should speak with confidence, for we have the Word that has power and authority to expel evil. Do we really believe that? Do we truly treasure the Word of God?



Our lives won't be perfect if we do believe in God's power. In fact, we'll probably get new problems. Or as Oswald Chambers (above photo) wrote in Monday's My Utmost For His Highest, "This College [Clapham Bible Training College in England] exists...to see whether God grips you. And beware of competitors when God does grip you."

When God grips us, there can be opposition from the enemy. And, yes, the spiritual realm can be a scary thing to think about. But, we have the Word of God. It's in our Bibles. Right there. For the taking.

And the failure? Loss? Struggle? Disappointment? They're temporary.

Great are the works of the Lord; they are pondered by all who delight in them.
Psalm 111:2