Love Songs!

The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. Zephaniah 3:17

Just so, I tell you, there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents. Luke 15:10

At the funeral of a beloved uncle, I listened to the beautiful hymns sung but was touched by the song “Deep Purple” written 1930 and published in 1938 which was my aunt and uncles love song. The words, though written for a young couple in love, were also appropriate at this time with these words “as long as my heart shall beat”, we all long for that kind of love. As was the practice back then, the hospital stay after giving birth was quite lengthy and my mom was missing her one year old daughter (me) and the song "My Happiness" rang true to her about her baby girl as the lyrics go,  how i long to be with you" and continued until she passed away.  I didn’t always understand that love until I got kids of my own. I don’t recall that my husband and I ever decided on any one song but many songs remind me of our dating. Occasionally I get on one of those hip-hop station playing those songs of the 60s and I can go back to those days of sitting in his 1964 yellow SS Impala; at the outdoor root beer stand while the songs of the time played on the radio. Happy songs of young love! “The Yellow Submarine by the Beatles or “Stop in The Name of Love” by the Supremes.

Right now I am listening to love songs of a different kind! They take me back to a time when we made a commitment for a life time. They are songs that tell of love that could never be measured. The truth that I hear in them has rang true for all of these years. They are songs that tell of the gospel of Jesus Christ. My mind goes to one Sunday morning when we sang “There’s Room at the Cross You”, there we found that there was indeed room for two young seekers. “He Touched Me” and he made me whole still rings true these 51 years later. Of course who could forget “Amazing Grace”, “What a Friend We Have In Jesus” and “The Old Rugged Cross”. When my youngest daughter was very sick in the hospital , Larry and I slipped out to go to church and was given hope and sang with great enthusiasm “Hold on my child, joy comes in the morning”. Joy came right then because I knew how much He loved us, but joy came as our little girl recovered with none of the lasting effect that the doctors predicted. Joy did come in the morning many times in these many years and still I hold on to this promise.

Psalm 30:5 Weeping may endure for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.

I love so many of the new songs that we sing now in church, but my heart is full of those love songs that I have deep in my soul. Those songs that are stepping stones through my life. Songs that tell of his love, his promises and his presence in our life. “No One Ever Cared For Me Like Jesus”, “The Garden” and “How Great Thou Are”.

As we celebrate this month of Love with our Sweethearts, I praise God for my Sweetheart! How brilliant of God to know that we needed a helpmate. He is my best friend who has walked with me through the many years. His memories are much like mine because of the happiness and the sorrows that we have shared with Christ by our side. Praise God if your “love” songs are many!

Heart Stopping News

 In 1956 I had a little girl friend that I played with when I was eight years old. There's two things I remember about her. One was we watched Elvis Presley on the Ed Sullivan Show at her house because we had no TV at that time. I also recall that my little eight year old heart stopped as I watched the beautiful singing of the handsome idol. The second memory was going to Bible School with her one humid summer night. I climbed up into the car and my friend and I giggled all the way as little girls are prone to do. We were led to a stuffy room with other second graders who all sat on tiny colored chairs with just the right sized table for little kids. A nice lady, who patted my shoulder as she passed, handed me a piece of red construction and another piece of gray paper. The glue was put in the center of the table along with crayons to copy what she wrote on the black board. These words would become the most important words that I had heard in my young life. For the first time I learned I could pray to God. The nice teacher read from the bible that Jesus's friends asked him to teach them how to pray. I wondered why these men would ask Jesus this. Did they notice a difference in Jesus after he had talked to the God of heaven. "Teach Us To Pray" was scrawled on the board as the story was told from the worn bible of the one who held it. "You and I too can talk to God", she said with such love in her voice. I glued the sheets together and cut lopsided lips to finish my masterpiece. I left that little room knowing that I could talk to God. As soon as I could, I tried out this promise I was given that evening. Most of my prayers started like a letter, "Dear God", I would begin. The hot evening ended with a singing of "Jesus Loves Me" which also rang out as a testimony about this new friend I had found.

I guess my faded piece of paper with "Teach Us To Pray" must by now be 65 years old a genuine antique in anyone's book. To preserve the brittle paper, it is kept in a zip lock bag that takes me back to the most important lesson I ever learned.

Praise you, my Dear God for looking at a wee girl and giving her the most wonderful gift. It's funny in a way that my young heart was stopped by a king that sang "Love Me Tender" but was blessed eternally by the King of Kings who tenderly taught me to pray.

Men of Galilee

 

Men Of Galilee

 

When I was a young Christian and raised my kids, I dodged all talk about the return of Jesus. I almost refused to think of the “tribulation” and the world coming to an end. After all, I wanted to raise my family and grow old with my husband. As can happen, I have grown up and grown old in the Lord and look at life through different lenses. I am no longer afraid to read in Daniel a great book of prophecy, and I often flip to the back of my bible to read the God-inspired words given to John the Revelator in the book of Revelations. I wince no more at the mention of the “Rapture”, Jesus’ return, or the anti-Christ, but stand amazed as I behold God’s plan.

 

Prophecy is being fulfilled as things become more evil in our world. My heart breaks for babies killed in the womb, deception and untruth prevail in our land, and the government strips Christian symbols from the American landscape. I have heard Isaiah 5:20 quoted many times during the last several months because the world has indeed been upside down.

What sorrow for those who say that evil is good and good is evil, the dark is light, and light is dark, that bitter is sweet and sweet is bitter. Isaiah 5:20 

While the book of Isaiah speaks the truth and we see these scriptures coming past right before our eyes, John’s gospel gives us instruction as to how we should function as we wait. Jesus said to feed His lambs.

As the disciples watched Jesus ascend into heaven, they could not take their eyes off of Him, but two men dressed in white stood beside them, “Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky?”

 

I’m afraid I am guilty of gazing into the sky. I have said many times, I hope the Lord takes us out of here. Christian friends and I have been found longing for Jesus to come again with a trumpet blast. Maybe this is our time to go into all the world and make disciples of all nations described in the Great Commission given by Jesus. Though we should be ready to fly, and I believe I am, the work assigned to me before I was born is not finished until that time. Go into all the world and make disciples in all nations, must be carried out, even to our last breath.

 

Men of Galilee, you can keep one eye to the sky, but we still have work to do!

 

My Little One

My Little One

 

While my youngest baby slept, that warmer than usual spring day, I sat on the front porch steps to watch the kids play. I was a little weary but none the less feeling so blessed by my house full of amazing children. Feeling a little guilty for the long rest I took while dishes, laundry and supper prep went undone, I got up and started into the house. Just as I did I heard the voice of my neighbor calling my name. In her hand was a tiny news paper clipping and on her face was a sweet smile. “I have a little poem for you”, she said with that same smile still beaming. As I read the tiny scrap, tears of joy trickled down my face to think of the blessings God has bestowed on me and the awesome responsibility that came with the blessed gift.

My Little One

As I sit here tonight in my bedroom

watching my dear baby sleep,

I can’t help but think of the blessings

That God bestows on His sheep.

I just read aloud from my Bible

To my baby there in her bed

I thank God for trusting her care to me

To be physically and spiritually fed.

May God always give me wisdom

To teach and train her each day

That she may grow into womanhood 

Serving Him all the way.

And I pray as I ponder this evening

That God in His infinite love

Will constantly lead her and guide her,

And prepare her for heaven above.

 

Many times I recited this poem over a sleeping child to remind myself of the blessings He lovingly placed on this forever grateful Mom.

 

As my kids have grown and have their own families I still pray without ceasing for my little flock. I come in humble adoration for my precious Father and Jesus Christ my Savior for bestowing on me “My Little Ones”.

Children are a heritage from the LORD, offspring a reward from him. ⁴Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one's youth. ⁵Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. They will not be put to shame when they contend with their opponents in court. Psalm 127:3-5

 

Our Little Town of Bethlehem

Most of us know at least in part the Christmas story if for no other reason we see Mary, Joseph, and the Baby in a traditional place in many homes this time of the year. Usually, not far from the manger scene is the wise men or magi, as some may call them. Baby Jesus was born in Bethlehem, and his mother was Mary. Since she was in the inn's stable, with animals all around, Mary placed her newborn in a manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes. Right? Well, let me tell you another story I witnessed many years ago. The manger was placed in the center of the stage in our sanctuary, made with crudely cut slats of wood and filled with fresh hay. The bewildered mother, Mary, fidgeted and patted, but she could not calm sweet baby Jesus. But in her wisdom, she got up and handed him to the Wiseman standing nearby. Knowing what to do, this Wiseman jiggled and consoled him for the next thirty minutes while the rest of the program went on at our church. You see, this beautiful baby Jesus was none other than Nicholas Drew, and that Wiseman was Larry, my sweet husband. This baby Jesus recognized the gentle touch and familiar rocking of one who loved him so much and knew what he needed. So in Wiseman garb, the man for the job in love comforted the wiggly infant. Sometimes, especially in these uncertain times, we are anxious and worried about what might happen next, whether it be with our job, our health, or our world as we have always known it. As you know, the roles in my little story are reversed. It is not Jesus who needs consoled or brought up to date. He is not confused or bewildered by the current circumstances we find ourselves in today. He is not racking his brain to develop plan B, nor does he need a Wiseman to consult with him. It is we, His children, who long for His touch. We find ourselves thirsty in a dry land, longing for relief that can only come from God’s Son, Jesus Christ. Our Nicholas is a grown man now and no longer needs to be consoled by us, but like all of us, he needs comfort when times are hard, and we find ourselves waiting, as they say, for the other shoe to drop in this uncertain world. I smile today with hope in my heart, thinking of this beautiful change that came to our “Little Town of Bethlehem.”

Gifts of a Bus Kid

Gifts of a Bus Kid Christmas is the season of “gift-giving”! We buy robes, PJs, and electronics galore and wrap them in colorful paper. Gift certificates in tiny envelopes are hung on the tree or put in stockings for those hard-to-buy-for people in our lives. I have read in the bible about the “gifts” or talents God gives to each of us. Some say they have no gifts, but the bible would disagree. Gifts are not all the same, just as the broad array under your tree is not the same. Some people can sing; some can preach; still, others teach. I knew a precious saint who had the talent to put a beautiful flower arrangement together to set on the piano for Sunday morning service. I loved the faithful one who cooked for big church gatherings as if cooking for two and the volunteer who welded together the very stage that held those who would minister in teaching, preaching, and bring us a song. Sometimes people don’t recognize these things as gifts, but they are just the same. Some days I doubt my worth in the Kingdom. I mull over my supposed “gifts” and wonder if they are from God. When I was younger, I fed babies in the nursery, taught 4th graders about Jesus, and was a clown named Cleofa at Bible School. All things I could see and touch. But now I write! Old fingers fly over the keys to type words on a page that flitters out of my heart and mind. Sometimes I feel very vulnerable putting my thoughts out there, not knowing if anyone will read them or like them. For the last several months, I have been planning to self-publish a book of devotions. I have over five hundred writings of the previous ten years and new ones that I try to write weekly. The enemy taunts me that I’m just a nobody and could never write a book that anyone would read. Even at my age, my mind can still go back to the days I climbed aboard any church bus that would take me to church. I knew nearly nothing of the God that I met in those tiny Sunday School rooms with brightly painted kid-sized chairs. I remember the first time I learned that I could pray to God; even as a child, it changed my life. I scribbled “oTeach Us To Pray” onto red construction paper, made crooked lips, and pasted them on my masterpiece. At times, I compare what others know of the bible and writing and wonder if I still belong in the tiny room with brightly colored chairs. But as my “big girl” self, I know the scripture in 2 Corinthians is true. Only God can qualify us and enable us to be ministers of his New Covenant. 2 Corinthians 3:5-6 It’s not that we think we are qualified to do ANYTHING (capitals mine) on our own. Our qualification comes from God. He has enabled us to be ministers of his New Covenant. As long as these fingers can plunk out a word to glorify my Lord, I will trust Him to give me the courage to do that in His name and for His sake.

Lord, I'm Coming Home

Lord, I’m Coming Home So he got up and went to his father. "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him, and kissed him. Luke 15:20 When I was growing up, “coming home” didn’t mean too much to me. It usually meant a quick run from a neighbor’s house to mine or maybe coming home from my grandma’s house thirty miles away. My Aunts and Uncles and grandparents lived locally and never had to “come home.” Until my kids moved to other states all over the country, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” meant no more than a whimsical tune that I liked to sing during the holidays. That same song now sometimes comes with great anticipation as I look forward to my kids coming home. Jesus told the best “coming home” story ever in a parable. It was about a young man who wanted to strike out and see the world past his father’s fence line. Things were old fashion, dull, with the excitement around there non-existent. However, there was a catch. He wanted his inheritance before his father had even died so he could enjoy it in his youth. Amazingly the father agreed, and off the prodigal son went looking for what he thought he couldn’t find at home. The wayward boy soon squandered the inheritance on wild living and was reduced to feeding pigs. It was then that the prodigal decided to go home to his Father, who ran to him with open arms. In my search, I found a slow and steady song with a rather solemn tone, “Lord, I’m Coming Home” by William J. Kirkpatrick, published in 1892. Kirkpatrick wrote these lyrics with a young soloist in mind. This boy sang his solo at the church where William was music director and then quickly left before the sermon. Upon finishing the song, he asked the young man to sing his new song. This evening he decided to stay for the sermon and found the Lord at an alter of prayer. Coming home can mean many things, but it seems that it always generates joy. Whether coming home to a childhood home at Christmas, returning to God as a sinner forgiven or the ultimate coming to our heavenly dwelling, the Father’s arms will be open wide to greet us. Open wide Thine arms of love, Lord, I’m coming home. Lord, I'm Coming Home Hymn Lyrics I’ve wandered far away from God, Now I’m coming home; The paths of sin too long I’ve trod, Lord, I’m coming home. Refrain Coming home, coming home, Nevermore to roam, Open wide Thine arms of love, Lord, I’m coming home. I’ve wasted many precious years, Now I’m coming home; I now repent with bitter tears, Lord, I’m coming home. Refrain I’m tired of sin and straying, Lord, Now I’m coming home; I’ll trust Thy love, believe Thy Word, Lord, I’m coming home. Refrain My soul is sick, my heart is sore, Now I’m coming home; My strength renew, my hope restore, Lord, I’m coming home. Refrain My only hope, my only plea, Now I’m coming home; That Jesus died, and died for me. Lord, I’m coming home. Refrain I need His cleansing blood, I know, Now I’m coming home; O wash me whiter than the snow, Lord, I’m coming home.