I will sing with my mind

Sophomore year of high school, my English teacher had us put together poetry notebooks.  We were to collect examples of genre, meter, rhyme scheme, figurative language, etc.  One of the poems I chose was "Love is Like Sounds," by Donald Hall.

Late snow fell this early morning of spring.
At dawn I rose from bed, restless, and looked
Out of my window, to wonder if there the snow
Fell outside your bedroom, and you watching.

I played my game of solitaire. The cards
Came out the same the third time through the deck.
The game was stuck. I threw the cards together,
And watched the snow that could not do but fall.

Love is like sounds, whose last reverberations
Hang on the leaves of strange trees, on mountains
As distant as the curving of the earth,
Where snow still hangs in the middle of the air.

My 15-year-old self had trouble with this poem, and my teacher helped me understand that is about how feelings can linger for a long time, frozen and unaffected by time.  

This morning the landscape is dusted with our first winter snow, and I found myself thinking of this poem.  It has stuck with me for almost 20 years.  It wouldn't have if it weren't for two things: the striking imagery, and the fact that someone interpreted it for me.

I was reading 1 Corinthians 14 this morning, which talks about the usage of gifts in the body - particularly speaking in tongues.  The emphasis is upon its value as edification; the message must be intelligible, or else the only person edified is the messenger.  Then when it is interpreted, the listeners are to carefully weigh what was said.  I'm not sure what that means; if they are to judge it, or if they are to think about applying it; assuming it is spirit-led, though, it must be the latter.

Twenty years later I'm involved in writing songs and helping others do the same.  I think there are three important goals to emphasize with songwriting; one is spiritual, one is artistic, and one is in-between.

1) The songs must be intelligible.  This is both an artistic and spiritual concern.  That does not mean that they have to be simple, but they do need to be coherent and consistent.  If the writer is the only one who understands it, it is merely a personal language and communication is lost.

2) The songs must be edifying.  This is a spiritual concern and relates primarily, though not exclusively, to content.  The poem above is not something I would want or expect to be read in a church service.  I suppose it is on the distant horizon of edification, because it is life-affirming to the degree that it recognizes that love and pain are real.  But it is also a bit wallowy.  There are probably more edifying responses to such pain.  I read somewhere the other day that Satan is the enemy of all life.  He says death to creativity, to hope, to the value of personhood, to the soul.  I would say that music that does so, in form or content, is not edifying.  This takes discernment, because songs are complex, but it is still one of the right questions to ask.

3) The songs must be good.  This is an artistic concern.  If Donald Hall were not a good poet, I would not remember his poem 20 years later.  It wouldn't make me slightly sad when I look at snow, and remember my sophomore year of high school.  There are a lot of ways to say "feelings can remain frozen and unaffected by time," but the particular way in which he said it, made me remember it.  Christian lyrics should do the same - strive for artistry so that the song can linger with a person and continue to build them up through the years.

I always find 1 Corinthians 14:15 encouraging,"I will pray with my spirit, but I will also pray with my mind; I will sing with my spirit, but I will also sing with my mind." The whole chapter and the preceding two are about how God gives many gifts in the body.  I am grateful that in a small way that music can - and must - be used to edify.

Martha Speaks

Kyrstin enjoys a PBS cartoon called "Martha Speaks."  The premise is so utterly simple, you wonder that it even got to TV.  Martha, a dog (who looks like a golden retriever) ate some alphabet soup one day, and instead of it going to her stomach, it went to her head, and she started talking.  And talking.  And talking!  She speaks mostly in monologues, and while she is very articulate on a variety of matters, she often uses her voice to request her dinner.  "Steak!  Steak!"

When I feel like I've been sending my husband so many text messages without a reply that it becomes a monologue, I'll text "Steak! Steak!" He understands.

Speaking of amazing transformations, I have mentioned in prior posts that I'm slowly making may way through Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World,  by Joanna Weaver.  I was particularly encouraged by what Weaver describes as Martha's teachability (Martha from the Bible story, not the talking dog, of course).  Sure, when we first see her she is the harried, task-oriented older sister who derided the younger sister's preference to sit at Jesus' feet and learn.  But she learned, too.  When Jesus came back after her brother Lazarus died, he addressed her.  "I am the resurrection in the life... Do you believe this?" And she replied, "Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, the son of God, who was to come into the world." Weaver notes that "scholars call this declaration one of the most incredible statements of faith in Scripture, for it cuts to the very essence of who Jesus was and is" (143).  Then she fetched her sister to come see Jesus.

As Weaver describes it,  "The anxious, demanding Queen of Everything is gone" (144).  Yet, what encouraged me most was that she was still Martha.  While she was being herself, God changed her heart.  It blessed me.  There are bitter, anxious words of Martha's in the Bible, but there are also these words full of faith and an act of encouragement.  It is an encouragement to me to see this transformation.

No recipe for happiness

There are shows like America's Test Kitchen, where the chefs try stuff out and explain what works, and there is Elton Brown on TV explaining why these aminos and those carbohydrates result in this product.  But have you ever noticed how decidedly unscientific cooking can be?  Specifically, how no one ever reports on the failed experiments?  I'm no scientist - it is not my calling - but I know that generally you start out with a hypothesis, then propose an experiment, describe the materials and procedure, describe the results, and then analyze the data.  Sometimes your hypothesis is proven and sometimes it is disproven; sometimes it is not disproven.

So today I started with a working hypothesis that I could make whole wheat pancakes from scratch without a recipe and that they would turn out delicious.  Like I said, no scientist, but I do love to cook.  So, it was an experiment, and one that I pretty much needed to work since I was making breakfast.  I think part of the scientific method - or at least write-ups of experiments - involves providing some background.  Background: I love pancakes, but cannot consistently make them well.  If it's not bisquick, they are often flat or unevenly browned.  Also, I am on a health kick, under conviction that my family must eat better.  Furthermore, it was a rough night with my son, so as he slept in, I decided I would have a special moment with my daughter and make whatever she wanted, hoping she wouldn't ask for waffles, because the Bisquick ones are unsatisfactory and from scratch is a pretty involved process (though they are delicious).  I know that applesauce is a good substitute for fat in baking, but we don't have any, so I decided to use nonfat vanilla yogurt.

Here is the recipe:

Whole Wheat Yogurt Pancakes

1 C WW Flour

1/2 C AP flour

1 t baking soda

1 t baking powder

1 t salt

1 C milk

1/2 C nonfat vanilla yogurt

1 t cinnamon

1 t vanilla

2 eggs, beaten

Mix all dry ingredients, and make a well.  Mix all wet ingredients, pour into well, and stir.  Pour by 1/3- 1/2 cups onto 300 degree griddle.  These pancakes take a long time to bake; maybe 4 minutes per side.  But they do cook all the way through.

Results:

I was very pleased with how evenly they turned out; they were thick but they cooked all the way through and did not burn.  They tasted good, but were kind of shiny and rubbery on the edges.  

Analysis:  I assume the shininess and rubberiness was because of subbing yogurt for fat.  Kids liked them just the same; happy-face shape was a success.

Conclusion: In the future, I will stock oatmeal and wheat germ so I can make WW pancakes per recipes I know will work.  Also, hypothesis that I could create a great pancake recipe from scratch was proven to be wishful thinking.

Obsolete

Well, I admit it.  I am not cool.  I am also reminded constantly that it is no longer my generation's moment - the torch has passed.  Or so I think...

I'm kind of confused as to what "generation" I belong to.  I have heard Generation Y described as those born 1978-1999.  If so, I am Gen Y's elder sister.  If it starts with 1980, I am the littlest X'er.  Both seem right to me.  I alternately feel like both Meg and Amy.

Part of this has come from the realization that younger people are doing cooler things than me, and that they do not speak my language and I do not speak theirs.  It's kind of painful.  I want to connect but feel... obsolete.  Like I have to think of all new metaphors, and they have to translate through Twitter.  I just can't keep up.

I wonder if anyone can.  I heard a college freshman the other day say something to the effect of, "Older generations complain that we do everything too fast.  Why do they complain about us being fast?  Why don't they just let those of us who are fast do our thing, and the slower ones just get out of the way?"  I doubt the guy was aware of the social darwinism of that statement.  I think he just likes speed - as do I - and I think he is 18 and hasn't found his limit.  One day he will sing a different tune.

I don't think it will be a day too far off, either.  Gen Y faces a volatile job market that will require various lateral moves, constant self-upgrading, and geographical mobility to stay on top of the game.  Sooner or later, most people will find themselves obsoletized.  We all know this, but Gen Y'ers are going to have a harder time dealing with it.  The advantage of ten years gave my husband a stable career, and even then, we are never entirely certain of what the future will hold.  It is going to require a lot more creativity on the part of the the new workforce.

Sara Groves' song "obsolete" bridges the generations, who may have different comfort or familiarity levels with the current technological/social media network situation, which she wisely dubs "invisible emppires," but who all have to wonder if they're able to keep up and remain relevant.  I've posted a live performance below, which is beautiful.  A few of my favorite lines and then you can just watch it:

It's hard to feel disqualified
For living in a different time
As if the train will only stop
For the current paradigm


Sara Groves performing Obsolete in Indy. Hosted by Onyx Ministry from Onyx Ministry on Vimeo.

Funky Sheep

I am trying to be more intentional about teaching my kids, and was blessed by a referral to a resource for teaching one character trait per month that gives ideas but allows for a lot of flexibility.  I just started planning in earnest for this yesterday, and started implementing it today.  Already, I am amazed by how much I have learned.

This month's trait is gentleness, and a very timely lesson, indeed.  A lot of the activities are sheep-centric, because Jesus leads us gently as the good shepherd.  Well, like I said, I just started this today, and it's been great, but I was scrambling a bit.  Thus, we made a sheep with colorful pom poms instead of the usual cotton balls.  These are sheep of a different color.

It so happens that I was talking to a friend today about a common experience we've had with children who are difficult to figure out.  It's hard to know quite what to expect or how to feel; in other words, it's not all black and white with these sheep.

I think one thing I've learned so far from this material that helps in this situation is that the Lord is my shepherd, too.  He cares for me as I care for my little flock; "He gently leads those that have young."  He understands what my kids need even when I don't, and has mercy on me when I can't figure it out.  I've been thinking a great deal about  how gently the Lord has led me, and how that is some second-hand grace I can pass along to my funky flock.

Beyond Belief

I don't know why, but when I woke up with one of my kids at 2:00 this morning, this song came to mind.  After watching the video, I'm so glad it did.



Watching the video, I remembered that my 2 AM thought was of the line, "waters never part until our feet get wet" (whoa-oa-oa).

I know this song by heart because my junior high/high school youth choir sang through the Beyond Belief songbook.  It was a four-part harmony with an accompaniment track that sounded pretty much like the original recording.  It was totally awesome.

What is even more fun is that as I was watching the video, it not only sounded, but looked familiar.  That bewildered young man is getting lost and running out of gas along roads that I drove to youth camp or other getaways while growing up in Arizona.  I was pretty sure it was Arizona, though willing to admit it could be Utah, Nevada, California, or New Mexico, until John Schlitt set the young man straight by pointing around at the map of Arizona.

Petra is awesome, and so is this video.  Oh, hey - Petra means rock, so it just occurred to me that there is a visual pun in the setting.  I just thought it was a way of evoking a "higher place...where we reach the next plateau." Anyway, I love all the cactii, and I love the parts where the guys are standing at different levels on those rocks, which make a very cool stage set.  There is a refreshing lack of fog machines, strobe lighting, and heck, even electricity, in this video.  Does make you wonder where the electric guitar and keys are getting their power, but no worries.  Petra is awesome.

There are several Petra songs that have stuck with me my entire life, and this is one of them.  The lyrics wouldn't have lept into my mind at 2AM otherwise.  Speaking of leaps:

Leap of faith without a net
Makes us want to hedge our bet
Waters never part 
Until our feet get wet.


That is such good writing!  Notice the allusion to Joshua 3, when the Jordan river began to back up as soon as the priests' feet touched the water.  You wouldn't need to know that for this to be cool, but still.  The song opens with an allusion to the mount of transfiguration, when Peter sees Christ glorified and wants to build a few tents and dwell there.  Awesome.

I must say that even the plot line of the video encouraged me.  Kid gets a flat, someone helps him.  Kid runs out of gas and can't pay, someone covers it.  Kid gets pulled over (for speeding?), is let off with a warning.  Kid gets lost, is redirected by John Schlitt.  It's like the band takes the place of the Holy Spirit, or of angels. (hey, a band of angels).  I don't really know why I woke up at 2 AM and this song came to mind, but it is encouraging to be reminded that

There's a deeper place to go
Where the road seems hard to hoe
He who has begun this work 
won't let it go.
(Let it go)


Awesome.  More power to ya'!

Of its work I do sing

I have the privilege of being a student in a weekly interdenominational Bible study of women in my area.  Right now we are working our way through 1 Corinthians, and coming across the passages where Paul chides the Corinthian believers for their party spirit.  "One of you says, 'I follow Paul'; another, 'I follow Apollos'; another, 'I follow Cephas'; still another, 'I follow Christ.' Is Christ divided?" (1:12-13a). In this passage, and others like it, Paul turns immediately to the cross as the object and subject of his teaching: "We preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God" (1:23-24).  Our interdenominational group is a blessing and a joy precisely because the leadership are united in looking to the cross.

I also have the privilege of leading worship from time to time, and I was listening through the set list for our church's upcoming Women's Retreat.  My friend Misty and her husband Dave have put together a delightfully cross-centered set.  There are a hundred reasons to sing about the cross.  Unity is, I think, not the chief of them; it is a by-product of the supremacy of Christ and the centricity of the cross in the Christian life, which are the more legitimate reasons.  Still, unity is a precious peaceable fruit.

I really wanted to share here a video of a cross-centered song I'd had on my mind; "Sweetly Broken," by Jeremy Riddle (but I cannot find a licensed version) .  I love the lyric, "To the cross I look, and to the cross I cling/ Of its suffering I do drink/ Of its work I do sing."  I can never sing too much of the cross and am grateful for singers and musicians who find fresh ways of drawing my heart gently to its knees through song.

Dreaming of Jubilee

A friend gave me a copy of an article from Christianity Today about the Jubilee Singers of Fisk University.  Fisk was one of several institutions established by Arthur and Lewis Tappan's American Missionary Society to "educate, uplift, and elevate" freed slaves.  Such institutions were poorly funded, and the Jubilee Singers were a choir of black men and women who went on fundraising tours on behalf of Fisk, performing to mostly white audiences.  The article notes that while they intended to prove that freed slaves were capable of performing "the best of the Western musical canon," it was the spirituals that had the profoundest effect on their audiences, which led to a revised program focusing on "slave songs of faith."

One short paragraph in the article really struck me; the author, David Neff, says that the songs of the Jubilee Singers "gave white audiences a striking vision of Christ's liberating power," and their vision "gave hope that those with other bondages might experience their own exodus."

My friend gave me a copy of this article because it mentioned Henry Ward Beecher, who gave his endorsement to the group, thereby legitimizing it in the eyes of white audiences.  My friend knows that I am a fan of all things Beecher or Stowe, and that Harriet Beecher Stowe is my hero and the focus of my research.  I am particularly interested in the emphasis on literacy of some nineteenth-century Christian abolitionists.

As this blog attests, I also love Sara Groves, and especially  her new album, Invisible Empires.  I could blog about what every single song means to me - and I may, eventually - but today is special, because it's not about me.  Today it is about how one of her songs always reminds me of some friends.   Sara wrote this song to encourage her friends at International Justice Mission, an organization that advocates and intervenes to end the modern-day slavery of human trafficking and sex trafficking.  The song is "Eyes on the Prize," which is a re-make of a civil rights song. Just as the Jubilee singers' music embodying one form of freedom could anticipate another, I think this song can encourage all who seek to end systemic injustice in Jesus' name, starting with the conviction that human beings are innately valuable because they are made in the image of God.  This was the motivating force behind the efforts of the Tappans, of Stowe, and of Wilberforce.  Here is Sara performing a live version, and here is a link to her telling the story behind the song.




I have many friends who friends who are involved in a present-day abolitionist movement.  Inspired by William Wilberforce and other Christian abolitionists, they are seeking the abolition of human abortion in the culture - particularly United States culture.  Today seemed like an especially good day to dedicate this song to these friends, considering some disappointing events in the news.  It took Wilberforce, acting with a cast of supporting characters, most of a lifetime and an entire political career to effect the abolition of slavery in the UK, but it happened.  The way is slow, and perhaps not always linear.  Jubilee is the dream.  Your work is good.

What have I to ask beside?

All the way my Savior leads me,

Cheers each winding path I tread;

Gives me grace for every trial,

Feeds me with the living Bread.

Though my weary steps may falter,

And my soul athirst may be,

Gushing from the Rock before me,

Lo! A spring of joy I see;

- "All the way my savior leads me," lyric by Fanny Crosby

The picture above was taken on the neighborhood path 3 months after Stefan is born (I am holding him but he's hard to see).  I took a walk around that path again yesterday, talking to God about where He's leading me, and where He's leading my family.  I thought about where He'd led me before, and the difficulty I'd had providing an explanation for my behavior to others.  I'd even come up with explanations that seemed more logical.  "Well, if I do ___, then I can do ________ in the future." These explanations were half-hearted stumblings.  I realized yesterday as I walked that I just did those things because that is where my savior led me, and if they didn't lead to anything else, they at least let me walk with him, which is all I've ever truly desired or aspired to.

All the way my Savior leads me;

What have I to ask beside?

Can I doubt His tender mercy,

Who through life has been my Guide?

Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort,

Here by faith in Him to dwell!

For I know, whate’er befall me,

Jesus doeth all things well;

Chris Tomlin has an updated recording of this song; our choir has it in our repertoire.  It's lovely.  I couldn't find an "official" version online, so I can't link you to it.  But if you're interested, you can look it up.

Sometimes you don't

I posted about making these cookies the other day to satisfy my chocolate craving and calm my inner crazy mom.  I made half of the pan with nuts, and half without, because sometimes you feel like a nut, and sometimes you don't.  In the pic, the nuts are on the L.  You can see that Scott and I went a little more nuts than not.

I would like to make the note that substituting almonds for walnuts in a cookie bar recipe didn't work great because the almonds got a little rubbery.  But it still tasted sweet and chocolatey, was highly edible, and worked for me.

As for nuts, we have a bowl of them on our kitchen island.  They've been sitting there since Christmas.  We bought them thinking it would be fun to use with the nutcracker Kyrstin got for her birthday.  She loves nutcrackers, as her excitement in this picture attests.

As it turns out, though, the nuts were too strong for the nutcracker, which was actually decorative.  Not being "nut" people (in one sense) we didn't know that.  So, now we have this big bowl of nuts, plus another amount the same size where that came from in the pantry.  I'm not sure what to do with them.  I don't feel like having them out anymore, but I can't waste all those walnuts, pecans, hazelnuts, and almonds.  I'm not likely to individual crack and chop them to cook with.  Anybody wanna go nuts?

The half-life of grace, or second-hand miracles

A friend offered me some secondhand clothes and I picked them today.  I appreciate this because a) it helps me extend my wardrobe, and b) I don't have to suffer any buyer's remorse.

I was thinking this morning about the miracle of longsuffering; how over time, indirectly, some of the longsufferer wears off on the suffered.  Maybe this is because I am so hard-headed and proud that you can't teach me anything; you have to show me.  That takes time, which puts the long in longsuffering.

If I could just learn everything directly for myself, I could experience more grace firsthand.  Sometimes, though, I don't even know what I'm missing.  I get around people who've got something special, and think, hmm, where  can I pick some of that stuff up?  Also, I have in the past bought some nice stuff second-hand, and really enjoyed the quality.  It made me more willing to pay the price for the real thing later on, and start counting that cost.  It's the same with spiritual blessings.

This idea makes me uncomfortable, too, because I realize how frequently the grace God shines into my life is  snuffed out by my own selfishness or fleshliness.  This is most evident when I am impatient or short with my children.  I guess sometimes I expect them to be little adults.  It's taken me XX years to arrive where I am, and it's not the finish line... clean or dirty, cute or frumpy, I've got some little wardrobes to launder and fold, and do it all again tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow... until they're big enough to take it all on their own.

The patience to do that would be a miracle that I am just hoping would have a secondhand effect.

Sometimes you feel like a nut

There are cookie bars baking in my oven.  Let me tell you the story of how they came to be.

Last night, around 1:30, our little boy started fussing.  We tried rocking and holding him, to no avail.  We tried to let him cry it out, but he would not let up and we could not sleep.  We finally gave him some tylenol, held him for 20 minutes after that, and then let him go back to sleep.  We think it is a teething issue as there was a wet spot on his sleeve right where he likes to chew when he is teething.  All in all this took two hours - so, around 3:30, I'm snuggling under the covers, thankful, and zzzz....

7:30 my daughter comes into bed with us.  We are tired, but happy because it's a Saturday, so we can take it slow and be together.  Breakfast is nice, and with coffee, I feel like kind of a decent person.  Until the kids start being weird.  Then we have errands to run, and I feel like I'm dragging them around in the van, though heavier than our automobile seems to be the accumulating thoughts of everything that annoys me in life.  The coffee starts to wear off.  I have nothing nice to say, so say mostly nothing to anyone.  I contemplate the fact that my tiredness from being up two hours in night watches does not explain or justify my total change of attitude from breakfast to errands, but it does contribute.

After lunch I decide that what will make me feel better is to bake something chocolaty.  Start out going for cookies, but realize we are out of sugar, so switch to bars.  I realize also that cooking and/or eating chocolate is really not going to make the difference in my attitude, but that it will contribute.  We have most of the ingredients on hand - graham crackers, sweetened condensed milk, flaked coconut, and chocolate chips, but no walnuts.  I decide to sub some of the almonds that we have, though I put them only on half of the pan since they might constitute a choking hazard for the little boy.

The combo of chocolate, coconut, and almonds reminds me of Almond Joy.  So I figure that half of my pan of cookie bars will be Mounds, and half will be Almond Joy.  This split really is an apt metaphor for my day, and a lot of days: sometimes I feel like a nut, and sometimes I don't.

Dickinson's days

I've been doing a little background research for an idea I had for writing a different kind of hymn; one that used the meter of the hymn in order to throw into relief an atheistic or agnostic message. I was thinking about Emily Dickinson, because I remember learning in my undergrad days that Dickinson often used hymn meter for her poetry. Case in point, "Because I Could Not Stop for Death" is written in common meter, as is "Amazing Grace," by John Newton.

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

 vs.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see.

 A lot of scholars have put a lot of thought into why she did this. Was it because so much exposure to hymns predisposed her to a particular cadence? Was she fond of hymns? Did she like the challenge? It was certainly a limitation that she chose for her own purposes. I guess scholars are not settled on the question, and I have enough respect for literary studies not to impose a hasty answer. For me, though, hearing Dickinson's poems set to hymn tunes makes it readily apparent how very different her message was from that of the hymns. Consider the last two stanzas of both "Because I could not stop" and "Amazing Grace." I'm also including the penultimate stanza of Dickinson's poem for context.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

 vs.

 When we've been there ten thousand years
 Bright shining as the sun
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we first begun.

It is not clear what happens in Dickinson's eternity, but Newton's is clearly a choir party. Note the emphasis on the length of days, too. It really brings out the contrast. Well, that is enough for now; I'll post a few more times on this subject, I think.

Surprises

We are home today. It is overdetermined. We can't get out, and there aren't many places we really ought to be other than here. Surprisingly, it's been a good day; the kids have played nicely and even shown sign of some developmental progress (always encouraging with a toddler and preschooler). Kids are playing in back yard and seem to really like it. 64 or so out there this January day; got to love Oklahoma weather and all of its surprises (earthquakes, tornadoes, Sprinter, etc.). Friends can surprise you, too. There is something I need regular help with and have been struggling to find it; I felt like God put on my heart to get in touch with a couple of people, but have not, because I have assumed they were too busy. Well, I called two of them today, almost apologetically. One said she'd be happy to help almost any other time, which was good to know, and the other agreed to do it, with hardly a hesitation. God can surprise me. Happiness is being surprised by little moments. Well, wouldn't you know; before I could finish typing this up I hear a little voice tell me of a developmental regression... that I have to clean up... life is never as neat and tidy as a blog post.

Running the course

I woke up thinking this would be a long day, and hearing Caedmon's Call's "Walk With Me." Here is a goofy video of it: I always admire how well Danielle performs when pregnant. Long night w/sick toddler, appointments to make, IT issues to resolve on behalf of others... My thoughts were punctuated like my plodding steps in the pre-dawn house: One. Day. At. A. Time. I felt like I really just needed to get to my quiet time - it felt vital. It really does restore my soul. I found a little treasure in Psalm 19. It's about the sun, which is "like a champion rejoicing to run his course. It rises at one end of the heavens and makes it circuit to the other; nothing is hidden from its heat" (5b-6). I'm not sure what part gets to me the most. I think part of it is that even the sun just does his thing one day at a time, but he does it really well. I think it's also knowing that a day can only be so long - we'll get through it. Walk with me empty; walk with me strong. This is going to be one of those more empty days, I think, but I am praying for the Lord to supply what I need.

Beautiful Things

In my reading and in my Bible study, a recent emphasis is on the resurrection of Christ. As it is not Easter and these two readings were completely unrelated, I believe the Lord is bringing this into focus for me. My daughter's scripture verse for the week from her children's program is 1 Thessalonians 4:14, "We believe that Jesus died and rose again." I also read this quote from Yancey in Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World: "The three-day pattern - tragedy, darkness, triumph - became for New Testament writers a template that can be applied to all our times of testing" (132). What great encouragement, awe, and transcendent perspective comes through this tenet of Christian belief - the bodily resurrection of Christ, and the power behind that resurrection. The hope I have is not in my own power, and the power in which I place I have my hope is not limited by death or the grave. The thing that really gets me is that beyond the darkness, there is triumph. Beyond the grave, there is a more glorious life. He doesn't provide merely an end to our grieving period, but replaces it with gladness (Isaiah 61:3). There are a lot of songs that talk about this concept, but the one I heard this morning is Gungor's "Beautiful Things." I have to say I don't think that you can make a doctrine out of this song, and I don't know entirely where Gungor is coming from (though I have some idea) but as far as the simple idea in this song goes, it's true. The album art is a nice complement, too. Side note: we saw a beautiful sunrise this morning. Exactly.

All is calm...

Happiness is having the house to myself for a few hours. My husband is off today for MLK day and he took the kids out for awhile. He knew it would be fun for both kids and mommy. He just let me know the zoo is packed; free Mondays + holiday + beautiful January weather = a zoo at the zoo. So, it might not last long, but while it does, I'm enjoying that the only sounds in the house are the ones I'm making or playing. Over this winter break I set out to read two books; one I've blogged about already - the Pemberley one - and the other is Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World, by Joanna Weaver. It might be one of the best books I've ever read. Am 2/3 through and will not rush it just to meet my goal, because I have so enjoyed digesting it slowly and don't want to gobble up the rest.

Zigzags

This morning, I read an admonition in 1 Thessalonians to "be joyful always." Yay! Okay! Here goes! I also was reading in a Christian book about how sometimes bad things happen, and that God's will does not always proceed in a straight line. Indeed. I am wondering where my own zigzags are going to take me. All I know is He is with me, my sure foundation. Well, speaking of zigzags, I made this braided calzone a few times last week. With the dough made in the bread machine, the work was really minimal for me, and it's an easy and pretty way to feed a family. The braid is such a nice touch.

Easy treats

These are just Jet-Puffed peppermint marshmallows (which are oblong and flatter than regular marshmallows) with melted semisweet chips around them. I think milk chocolate would be a little better, but they are very easy and unusual candy to make, and have a Valentine's Day vibe (minus the Christmas plate).

Ten minutes to blog about our dog

I told the kids they had ten more minutes to play outside, and then it would be time for stories, naptime, etc. We got a dog yesterday with some late Christmas money. Here he is.

I'd had my eye on him for awhile. I really expected that Stefan would take to him, but it is Kyrstin who wants to bring him into the kitchen for meals, and bounce around the house on Blue, for that is what she has named him. I know this is a little snarky, but I can't resist commenting on how much we enjoy this kind of dog. No barking, no poop, no upkeep. We will have to clean his paws from time to time, and that's it. I can walk around barefoot in my yard without the concern that I might have missed something. Seriously and non-snarkily, this is a cool toy. It's made of a a durable, non-smelly molded rubber of some type, is less expensive than the Rody, and can hold up to 250 pounds, which means that I can bounce on him with one of the kids if I feel inclined. It's fun. Happiness is a bouncy blue dog.

It's not easy being Jeeves

Here is my prepared "English Breakfast" in front of the computer where I'm writing.

My overnight plan didn't go exactly as I'd expected; the bread machine was so loud at 3:30 this morning that it woke me up, so I moved it into the guest bathroom where the sound would be least bothersome to the family. Just to ease your mind, this is a bathroom where the toilet and bathtub are behind a separate door. The smell worked out exactly as I'd hoped, though I noticed there was no coffee smell. That is because I programmed my coffeemaker for PM instead of AM. Anyway,at 7:30, here's what I had.

My 1 1/2 lb. loaf of bread and my 4-cup pot of coffee (I was only making the coffee for me). Doesn't that hunk of bread look great? The kind of big bulk that makes you want to sing, "Let us break bread together on our knees." This is the kind of bread that in biblical times could be placed on a table and everyone just pull off a chunk to eat. In fact, I am told people still do this in the middle east. Well, like I said before, I was feeling British, so it needed to be sliced. You know what's the greatest thing since sliced bread? Me, either, but I can understand why that moment split culinary time. Slicing the bread is no easy chore now if you don't have the right knife. I have this small serrated knife that required two separate sawings per slice - one on each side. I wonder when sliced bread came out and when electric knives came out. I often wonder about pre-industrial, pre kitchen-full-of-time-saving-gadgets women and/or their help. Well, I sliced two thin slices for my kids, which turned out kind of uneven, and then sliced two big chunks, which I realized was a much better shape when you can do it. Here are the non-kid slices.

Here are the kids.

Sitting out were the butter, jelly, eggs, microwave steamer bowl, bread machine pain, coffee, and a can of peaches. By 9 A.M. I sat down with the above breakfast. Thinking of all of the conveniences I had, and how long it still took me, my hat is off to all of the house help at Pemberley and Longbourn (no E).

I rang

I am feeling very British and pampered right now. I programmed both my breadmaker and coffeemaker for 6:30 tomorrow morning. The way I hope it works, the coffee will start brewing at 6:30, which is right when I will need to take the bread out of the machine to let it cool for 20 minutes before I slice it. I imagine myself enjoying some coffee while I wait on my bread. Doesn't that sound nice? This is inspired by Jane Austen, directly and indirectly. My husband got me a few Austen-themed gifts for Christmas, and my imagination has luxuriated around Longbourne, Netherfield, and Pemberley. Yes, even Longbourne, because let's face it, even being a shabby aristocrat is still the life. One perk is that someone makes all of your meals for you on a certain schedule. You can even "ring for breakfast" if you want it at an hour earlier than it would customarily be laid out in the house. The thought of ringing for breakfast when it suits you really suited me, so I decided to arrange for my own breakfast to be made. Bread and coffee doesn't make a whole breakfast, especially when little kids are eating with you, but it will be a nice way to start the day. Happiness is being your own cook, maid, and butler. It will be worth it for the aromas alone. *Technical note*: for some reason over the past month my paragraph breaks have disappeared. When I'm composing they're there, but what I see does not translate.

The Gift of Trust

There need to be more post-Christmas songs to ease us out of the holiday season into normal life. The only one I know is "'Til the Season Comes 'Round Again," which I know and love from an Amy Grant album (I couldn't find a good, licensed recording of this song online). Our vacation was very blessed. It wasn't perfect, but it was time together to talk and play and, with relief, rediscover a few things. It was a respite. We took down our Christmas decorations last night and my husband went back to work this morning. We don't proceed full-throttle yet, but vacations cannot last forever, as my associate pastor recently reminded the congregation, and it is time to move into the next season. Last night I was also blessed to find a few Christmas-themed short stories by Harriet Beecher Stowe. It was a great transition from vacation to work. The first story featured the rich reaching out to the poor from charity prompted by visits from angels at Christmas time. This sounds sappy, I realize, but Stowe always makes me believe it. The angels visit the poor family, too, and when the mother, worked to the bone, is about to give up on happiness and hope, the angels give her the Christmas gift of trust. I loved that. Right now, that is the gift I most value - the gift of trusting the Lord with the new season, whatever it brings Spring 2012. I think of the words of the song mentioned above, "May the new year be blessed with good tidings." That is a nice thought. Good or bad, I want to trust.

Date Night

Happiness is... going on a long date with your husband, stretching from afternoon to evening. We saw the new Sherlock Holmes movie. I love spy movies for the same I liked this one: the application of human intelligence and prowess to its fullest potential. It's fictional, but fascinating. They're all preposterous in some way, of course, but still, even seeing imagined genius is satisfying. So, I want to write later about fig leaves in editing. Ebert said something about this film that made me want to watch it- namely, that Guy Ritchie edited this film so that we weren't merely left to guess what was happening during the fight scenes. He said it showed confidence to do so. On one hand, I think the assertion is a true one that certain editing schemes are meant to hide what a film lacks. On the other hand, I was guessing, and confused, during fight scenes. The first time I saw Mission Impossible (the first one) I was thoroughly confused. Watching it later I saw everything fall into place. I definitely want to see the new MI film. As for Sherlock, I understood most of what happened within the last five minutes of the film, and as I said, I enjoyed the parts I talked about. But I wonder, was anyone else as lost as me?

Every good and perfect gift

I am now the proud owner of a bread machine. I shall make bread with it. Oh, the bread! I will probably be sharing pictures. I only specifically asked for three things for Christmas, and really didn't think I'd get the third. I did get 2/3. The other thing I got was a nice pair of jeans. I may need to exchange them, but they are indeed nice jeans, so I officially got what I wanted. I was thinking this morning about James 1:17: "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows"(NASB). So much thought and preparation goes into a good gift. I would like to become more like the Father in the year 2012 in that I am more prepared to give good gifts, whatever they might look or feel like. This is only possible if I believe and receive the blessings God wants to give me. I've been thinking about the Sara Groves song "Open My Hands," which you can listen to here: Open My Hands This song is in a way a cheerful companion to "Like a Lake," a song from a previous album about the struggle to keep one's heart open after a grievance. "Everything in me is tightening," says the latter song, "curling in around this ache/ I will lay my heart wide open / Like the surface of a lake." "I believe," begins "Open My Hands." That is the key to staying open. I believe in a blessing I don't understand I've seen rain fall on wicked and the just Rain is no measure of his faithfulness He withholds no good thing from us. If I'm going to stay broken and open, I have to believe that He isn't going to withhold from me. Even if at times I feel need, which is something the rest of the song addresses. Even if I feel like I'm the last one on everyone else's Christmas list, and I end up with re-gifted socks. On a lighter note, while the kids are sleeping, I am baking Jesus' birthday cake. This is helping Kyrstin understand what Christmas is about. I am pondering now how to do the candles. I'm sure an idea will present itself.

It's Not Perfect...

So we've been on the road this weekend, got home and had to figure out what to do for dinner before we put kids to bed, go to Wal-Mart, and finish prep for our Christmas tomorrow. We're kind of tired and the house is a mess. It's not going to be perfect. This weekend I caught a few minutes of a kids' Christmas cartoon, the theme of which, in the end, was that "It's not perfect, but it's Christmas." It fit beautifully with what I felt the Lord had been teaching me over the weekend, which is that I can still rejoice even when things don't turn out quite like I'd imagined. He used the last few verses in Habakkuk. The "It's not perfect, but it's _________" formula works for a lot of things. Well, this post isn't perfect, but it's done.

Santa

 

This may be a better version of the picture in the previous post.

All Things Bright and Beautiful

 

We saw Santa last night. The kids were so happy. I got to see that glimpse of wonder I've heard tell of, when Kyrstin figured out that Santa was right there. Stefan did well, too. I brought him up to Santa, and he turned to look at the big guy and smiled. And we thought we'd have to hold him during the shoot. This picture will always make me smile.

Speaking of things that make you smile, this morning Kyrstin wanted me to read *All Things Bright and Beautiful*, which is this beautifully illustrated children's book with the words to the hymn. My last post was about a children's hymn. This one is, too; the content is pretty basic, but it is a happy theme and a beautiful book. I think this same author does other stuff - we read Let There Be Peace On Earth awhile back. Neither are doctrinally rich. It reminds me of something that CS Lewis said, which is that a children's book should have something to say that will matter to adults, as well. Well, I am not entirely sure Let There Be Peace On Earth does, bc it is kind of universalist, but ATBAT is just lovely, and it's true. As a bonus, each of these books has the written music along with the story of the author and song. This would be a good idea for future childrens' books.

Here's the Amazon link so you can see what the book looks like. Its the artwork that makes it work - all cut paper art.

O Wondrous Love

Okay, today, happiness is wearing Christmas tree earrings my MIL gave me. Check 'em out.

I was reading Hebrews 13 today as part of my group Bible study, and have been reminded by the first three verses about the love we are to show both to fellow believers and to strangers. What a wonderful time of year to be reminded of this. What a wonderful love provides us the freedom to love, to do good, to show hospitality. What wondrous love! I got thinking about this song. It's a Sovereign Grace song, and I'm not sure that this cover is licensed. Hopefully this is okay. If anyone objects, I'll take it down. I know this isn't specifically at Christmas song, but it is the song my heart is singing at this time during this season, and I think it fits well. I love giving gifts - I probably take it too far. Somewhere at the heart of it is the kernel of truth that I've been given a great gift, a wondrous love "that sings of Calvary/ The sweetest song this sinner's ever known." I did not deserve this gift. Inherent in giving a gift is that it is not deserved or earned. That God would come to earth to provide a way for me to come to him humbles me, breaks me, makes my cold heart open up every time I am reminded of this gospel. So, while it is easy to lose sight of the gospel at Christmas, I am grateful for this reminder, and go back into the festivities now with a song in my heart - this song - and a sense of wonder at God's perfect love. Also, for fun, enjoying these festive earrings. ;)

Jesus, Joy of the Highest Heaven

I have a passion for Christmas music, new and old, and especially for new music that I think is good enough that it will have staying power and become "old" someday. I've heard a few new things this year that I think will have staying power. I think the Getty's "How Suddenly A Baby Cries" will hold on, but take awhile to become popular. I also like knowing the story behind a song. It's the Gettys' first Chrsitmas album and their first Christmas with a new baby. I'm sure that for them the Incarnation has taken on new meaning. This song, "Jesus, Joy of the Highest Heaven" is described below the video as a children's hymn. I'm not really sure of the difference between children's hymns and hymns for the rest of us anymore; maybe something to explore for a future post. In any case, I think having children makes you think differently about Jesus, "born as a little baby." I was actually talking to my daughter about how she was once in my belly like baby Jesus was in Mary's belly. This was a new concept to her. She likes it. I've shown her pictures. She has asked if she can get back in my belly. I explain that she is too big now. Here is the video, and below, a brief, non-sacred anecdote related to the above discussions. So, I told the kids, who were sitting in the dining area at their little table, to wait while I went to get the manger so I could talk to them about it. I was referring to pieces of our Fisher Price Little People nativity. When I got over to the nativity, which was just around the corner in the living room, I couldn't find baby Jesus at first. No big deal; last year we lost Mary for several weeks. I've gotten in the habit of praying out loud around the house for all kinds of things, especially when the kids are awake. So, I prayed, "Dear Lord, please help me find baby Jesus." And all of a sudden, I realized that it sounded like the premise of some kind of sermon illustration, Internet forward, or Hallmark movie. And the dread of being that made me pray even harder that I'd find him, and I did. He was down with the knock-off Little People mechanics in a drawer below the nativity perch. Now, I could really go on here about how Jesus would be with the lowly, etc., but that is not the point. Please. The point is that God helped me find the baby Jesus, and I went and talked to the kids about how Mary praised God for getting to be the mother of the most special baby ever. Happy ending.

One Song

I was thinking this morning about lyrics that I might post as a Facebook status, and my mind drifted to "What Child Is This?" Originally, I was going to post the chorus from the third verse, but decided to check myself for accuracy, and looked up the lyrics online. I was amazed to see how one song contains so many varied themes of Christmas. The narrative with its characters and tangibility - the baby on his mother's lap, angels singing, shepherds at their post. The humiliation of the King, chosen by the King himself - lying in "mean estate," when, as Milton reminds us, His true state is Kingly. Philippians 2:6-7 describes the attitude of such a king, who, "being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness." The song focuses on the manger, but provides scope. The chorus of verse 2, which I hadn't really paid attention to before, says: "Nails, spear shall pierce Him through/ The cross be borne for me, for you." This is more than a sentimental glimpse at a family group; the "babe, the son of Mary," is "the Word made flesh." The last two lines of each chorus address the listener, but then in verse three, the entire verse is a call to worship, inviting us to imagine our connection to peasants and kings, who alike are humble before this baby, the King of kings. The lyrics I was thinking of posting to Facebook were those of the chorus of verse 3: "Raise, raise your song on high/ the Virgin sings her lullaby/ Joy, joy to all He brings/ The babe, the Son of Mary." I suppose these verses stood out to me because I am a singer and songwriter. Somehow I naturally want to exult in the joy I find in God, notwithstanding and not ignoring the pain, the suffering, the sin in the world. As Sara Groves puts it in "Tell Me What You Know," "so much can go wrong/ and still there are songs." There are songs because Jesus was born - because of Emmanuel, God with us. So in this one song we have the humility of the King, the salvific perspective of the manger, and a call to response. It's the gospel, and a skillful song indeed. (I can't find a video that features all of the original lyrics, but this one has some nice artwork. I read the lyrics here.)

Hold Me, Jesus

Tonight our associate pastor preached a very profound, but at the same time, practical, message, based on John 10:10. Profound in the sense of what the enemy it out to do, practical in the sense of what I can do. Pray. Read the Bible. Be intentional. I was thinking of my daughter the whole time. I have grave concerns about her happiness and spiritual influences. I felt so burdened by life, and kept thinking of this song by Rich Mullins. (Not sure what's going on with the video, but there it is.) I have been surprised lately by how much ordinary life counts in God's scheme of things. I kept thinking that what the pastor was speaking of referred to the events of my life: raising kids, being involved in ministry, dealing with hurts I've received and inflicted. It keeps surprising me, to find that faith is required for ordinary life.

An open heart

Today's prayer: "Dear Lord, help me to open my heart and savor all of your goodness this season." I am feeling the crunch, especially right now, of all the things I need to do, and on top of that, my own touchiness and stinginess. I don't want that. I don't want to be constricted by bitterness or business. Lord, help! Things I think I need to do: laundry, clean house, go to crafts store for stuff for daughter's birthday, play with kids, make photo calendars, decorate for Christmas. Oh, take shower. Change diapers and help preschooler use the toilet. Also would like to do something amazing as a mom. Also need to contact someone about running sound for an event next week, and then also invite a friend to said event. I may minimize the party. Daughter will not mind. Need to figure some things out. Help, Lord. I know you are good. Amen.

ChristMonth

Christmas can't be very far away. Just a month. I know it is Black Friday but I am not out there yet. I have to make it to Target this afternoon, but just for the pharmacy. So, maybe I'll get in on the excitement. It would just be for fun; we're not after any big ticket items. Well, as for our Thanksgiving day, we realized yesterday that we had some other friends that were alone. Why hadn't we thought of these people? We don't see them all the time, I guess that's why. By the time we realized it, it was too late to make plans. The connection was made possible in a very strange way. We were watching the news, and there was a fatal shooting down the street from their rental property. I contacted them to find out if they were in town or aware. They were, and alone for Thanksgiving. So, we get to see them tomorrow. I have no idea what the rest of the story was with the shooting. It's in a nice enough neighborhood; a place I'd definitely live. I almost don't want to think about it too much. I have a VERY busy week ahead. Here's the delicious cake I made. It's a bundt!

Without money and without cost

My house smells like teriyaki chicken, chocolate chip cookies, yeast rolls, and rice. I mean, if you've ever been susceptible to the warm fuzzies, I think this would do it for you. We are preparing a Thanksgiving feast (the terikyaki is for tonight - Thanksgiving Eve). We will have turkey, green bean casserole, stuffing, cranberry sauce (good stuff), yeast rolls, and cake. It will be more than enough. Today we happened to be driving on the highway, and at our exit waited a man with a long white beard and a cardboard sign. He stared at us, peered at us, the second car in line at the stoplight, which seemed forever. "It's Santa Claus!" said Kyrstin. I had had the same thought. Sweet girl. I tried to explain he was not Santa Claus, but a hungry man who wanted a job to do. "No, he's Santa Claus," she protested. Then, from somewhere, came the exclamation, "Get out of our way, Santa Claus!" I think she thought that we were sitting so long at that light because he wouldn't move. Fixing our feast today, I remembered the verses from Isaiah, “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost." I began thinking that I wished I knew someone who needed a meal to share, who could come over and be with us. I don't think I do. I don't know that man or where to find him. I'm sure there's someone I could invite, I just don't know how to make the announcement. Maybe on Facebook? Shout out KJV style, "Ho, all you who are thirsty!" At the same time, I don't want a hoarde showing up. I can't feed them all. I could have like four people over to share a meal with us. Not sure how I could find them without still feeling like I'm excluding people. In high school, my dad's church always did a community Thanksgiving meal. People came to the waters, and ate without money and without cost. It felt right. It's a meal that needs to be shared, as it was originally, to thank God for what He has provided. So, we're making a feast, and the invitation is open, should anyone read this. We love to cook and share.

His state is kingly

Woke up early with Stefan this morning, and read a little bit of Milton. Poem about waiting on God. It reminded me of how I feel sometimes limited because of the talent I have but cannot use because I must take care of kids. I have read the poem many times before but never thought of it that way. Resonating in my mind as I went back to sleep were the words, "wait," and "write." Of course Milton didn't quit writing when he went blind. He used his daughters as his amaneunses. Hmm... Here's the poem. When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide; "Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?" I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need Either man's work or His own gifts. Who best Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait." Reading Milton changed my life; made me think of higher things, almost made me quit school (long story). Every time I encounter him it makes me pause, think, and want to strive to be a better writer.

Happiness is... this picture

 

Happiness is...

I think I'll start a "happiness" is category, where I just post some of my favorite things. Yesterday I was cruising the Internet looking for the perfect dessert to make for Thanksgiving. I really enjoyed it at first, but after about thirty minutes, I felt a bit queasy. I have an aversion to words like "moist" and "morsel," and a lot of the food pictures were the equivalent. I think I'm going to make a recipe my cousin sent me. No pictures; just a recipe that sounded good. She described it as "all fall," "not elegant," and something the kids would like. That's kind of neither here nor there - my point here is that I ended up making a crock pot bread in the afternoon with some pumpkin puree my husband made. Happiness is making bread in a crockpot, having it for dessert with family at dinner and then having it for bressert next morning.

No Good Thing

I will open my hands, will open my heart
I am nodding my head an emphatic "yes" to all that You have for me

. - Sara Groves, "Open My Hands," from the 2011 album, Invisible Empires

I was reading on PW's blog today that if you're going to blog, you should do is as often as possible, as much as possible, even if it's just a paragraph.

Thanksgiving is on Thursday, and prompts me to write a possibly very short post, just to say that I feel I have so much to be thankful for.

Sometimes I get scared that it won't all work out. I fret over details and schedules a lot. Even when things go well, I'm afraid they'll go too well and I won't be able to keep up/meet expectations.

This song reminded me the other day that those times that a lot seems to be going on, it may that God is just trying to bless. Perhaps when I open my hands to receive it, I let go of a bunch of other cares that don't matter.

A bit slapdash, but some thoughts:

I was thinking this morning about wisdom. "Wisdom is supreme; therefore get wisdom. Though it cost all you have, get understanding," Solomon instructs his son (Proverbs 4:7). The importance of value and wisdom is clearly seen in this verse and throughout the Bible book of Proverbs. The benefits are listed as well: she will be a garland to grace your neck, etc. In James 1 believers are told that if they lack wisdom, they should ask God for it, and he will freely give it.

I was thinking of a parallel passage in Colossians 3, which is a chapter talks about holy living, about truthfulness and goodness in relationships, and about unity through this goodness. The author instructs the believers to "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God." I am asking questions of the text, i.e., what does it mean to let the word of Christ dwell in you richly? What is the connection between teaching, admonishing, and singing? I think there is a connection between wisdom and the songs we sing. I'd like to trace that out.

Worthy Words: Making Each One Count

Milton begins Paradise Lost with an invocation, asking the heavenly muse to sing, through him, to describe the fall of mankind, and "justify the ways of God to men."

And chiefly thou O Spirit, that doest prefer
Before all temples the upright heart and pure,
Instruct me, for thou know'st; thou from the first
Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread
Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast abyss
And mad'st it pregnant: what in me is dark
Illumine, what is low raise and support;
That to the height of this great argument
I may assert eternal providence,
And justify the ways of God to men.


Milton makes it clear here he is talking about the Holy Spirit of God - God Himself. The imagery is striking - a dove-like spirit who sits on a nest of darkness, giving birth to creation. That the Holy Spirit descended on Christ like a dove at his baptism was known, but this is a fresh and surprising take, and connotes creation and annointing at the same time. Milton feels he has a serious task and needs substantial help to complete it.

What an inspiration Milton is, and moreover, the footnotes to Paradise Lost. There is a richness and knowledge there that rewards and delights a careful reader. Every word is chosen for the multiple levels of meaning, for the sound is produces, the tone it creates, and the number of syllables and accents of the word.

In PL, Milton makes the argument that God was just and generous in sentencing sinful man and angels. In a much tighter structure, the author of "Before the Throne of God Above" describes the role of Christ as intercessor between man and God, especially in defense against the accuser who has been after Adam since Paradise.

This hymn is even better than I ever realized, in fact, it's just about perfect. I know this because I observe its excellencies, and when I try to think of a single improvement that could be made, I can't! I will point out a few things here that are technical and lend to the overall greatness of this hymn.

Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea.
A great high Priest whose Name is Love
Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart.
I know that while in Heaven He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart.

First of all, the message is perfectly clear. Second, it is memorable. In the first four lines, the P sound is allierated four times. In lines 5-7, note the repetition of sounds in the words "graven," "written," and "while in." In the same lines, the H sound is alliterated 6 times. The last line is a concise eight syllables, whereas a roundabout way would be to say that "There is nothing anyone can say that would make me have to leave heaven," which is 18 syllables. Similar structures of repetition and conciseness are repeated in the other stanzas. This is a hymn that helps people guard their minds and hearts against Satan's attacks. It is worth putting the effort into good writing for such a purpose.

"Still, My Soul Be Still" is a modern hymn by Keith and Kristyn Getty and Stuart Townend that urges the soul to take comfort in God's abiding presence.

Still my soul be still
And do not fear
Though winds of change may rage tomorrow
God is at your side
No longer dread
The fires of unexpected sorrow

God You are my God
And I will trust in You and not be shaken
Lord of peace renew
A steadfast spirit within me
To rest in You alone


I love the meter of this song. The number of syllables per line in the first verse are 5, 4, 9, 5, 4, 9, as though the first two short statements add up to the third, and so on. I also love the allusions to scripture that capture a large amount of meaning in just a few words. "The fires of unexpected sorrow" is a great line and I am not sure what to say about it. "Lord of peace renew/ a steadfast spirit within me/ to rest in You alone" is a very interesting lyrics. We know him to be the Prince of Peace. We know the Psalmist's cry in Psalm 51 to have a right spirit renewed. What is new here is the plea for renewal to trust. It's beautiful.

"Less Like Scars" by Sara Groves is a similarly introspective song.

It's been a hard year
But I'm climbing out of the rubble
These lessons are hard
Healing changes are subtle
But every day it's

Less like tearing, more like building
Less like captive, more like willing
Less like breakdown, more like surrender
Less like haunting, more like remember


In the word "rubble," Groves communicates a great deal of information. Her world is in ruins - it has been destroyed or is in decay. She is like a natural disaster victim. The rhyme of "subtle" and "rubble" is nice. I've never heard it before. Nothing wrong with "love" and "above," but something new gets my attention; makes me listen. Ultimately this song is about something quite hard to describe, but she does it by negative and positive descriptions. Not so much this, but that. In later verses, she says "less like a prison, more like my room/ less like a casket, more like a womb." She makes each word count by choosing words that convey a great deal of information.

Chris Rice uses the metaphor of choice words to describe the potential value of each new day in "Life Means So Much" (this is one of my favorite pop songs ever).

Every day is a journal page
Every man holds a quill and ink
And there's plenty of room for writing in
All we do and believe and think
So will you compose a curse
Or will today bring the blessing
Fill the page with rhyming verse
Or some random sketching


He uses a journal filling with pages as a metaphor for life. Curse vs. blessing reminds me that I can be intentional about how I harm or help. Rhyming verse vs. random sketching is a potent way of describing the difference between a well-lived or haphazard lifestyle. Note the alliteration in "compose a curse" and "bring a blessing." Also, metrically, note how "or some random sketching" seems to be lacking a few syllables to fit the line. This could be coincidental, but in my opinion it serves the meaning of the lyric well because it seems lacking in execution. The chorus is simple, asking God to help us making the days count, just as a good writer makes his words count.

Reliant K is a band I could go on and on about. If I could choose only one word to describe their lyrics, "clever" is what I would choose. Unlike the other songs I've mentioned here so far, you have to listen hard to catch what they're saying because it all goes by so fast, as in the bridge and chorus of "Be My Escape."

And I've been housing all this doubt and insecurity
And I've been locked inside that house
All the while You hold the key
And I've been dying to get out
And that might be the death of me
And even though, there's no way in knowing where to go,
Promise I'm going because

I gotta get outta here
I'm stuck inside this rut that I fell into by mistake
I gotta get outta here
And I'm begging You,
I'm begging You,
I'm begging You to be my escape.


There is a lot going on here, literarily. I particularly like the uses of "house" and "death/dying." There is a poetry term for what they're doing - using the same word with different meanings (Shakespeare did it all the time) - but I can't remember what it is. I think it does a good job telling the listener that harboring doubt and insecurity can be its own prison, and that sometimes a certain kind of death is required for freedom.

I'll end with Switchfoot's "Let Your Love Be Strong," which I find achingly beautiful and evocative.

As the dead moon rises, and the freeways sigh
Let the trains watch over the tides and the mist
Spinning circles in our skies tonight
Let the trucks roll in from Los Angeles
Maybe our stars are unanimously tired

Let the wars begin, let my strength wear thin
Let my fingers crack, let my world fall apart
Train the monkeys on my back to fight
Let it start tonight
When my world explodes, when my stars touch the ground
Falling down like broken satellites

Let your love be strong, and I don't care what goes down
Let your love be strong enough to weather through the thunder cloud
Fury and thunder clap like stealing the fire from your skies
All of that I am hanging on
All of my world resting on your love


I've done a little editing here - the first verse and chorus are missing. In the first quoted stanza, I imagine the author sitting on a park somewhere just outside of L.A., feeling very fatigued and projecting this feeling onto the world around him - the moon becomes the "dead moon," the freeways "sigh," and the stars are tired. I'll never ever get over the rhyming of "Los Angeles" with "unanimous." One of my favorite word choices. Ever. This stanza reminds me of Wordsworth's "Daffodils," about the weight of all this weary, unintelligible world. Tired as he is of the tired world, the author says God's strong love is enough for him. The second stanza I've quoted is underscored by snare drums to emphasize the war theme. If the weary world should be torn apart, with him in it, God's love is enough. I also love the balance of heavy themes with the somewhat lighthearted resignation expressed by, "I don't care what goes down." It's slang, but it also works into the lyric, as he has mentioned stars falling around him. It has two meanings, so again, it's a phrase that really counts.

I hope all of these musings over my favorite songs help to illustrate what some worthy word choices look like, over a range of styles and centuries.

Signs and Wonders

My daughter and I were enjoying spring weather in the back yard yesterday, and I noticed a bird anxiously guarding a perimeter around this birdhouse on our porch. I think she is nesting. It reminded me of a song I'd written after a similar encounter three years ago, when I was pregnant with my daughter. I was in awe of the sensations I was feeling, combined with what I was reading about her development, and the images I'd seen on the ultrasound screens. Every day was something amazing. Three years later, on another spring day, you could say that we were an ordinary mom and an ordinary little girl playing in an ordinary back yard. And yet, she has her own unique personality, sense of humor, favorite foods, and her own voice with songs of her own to sing. Every day is a revelation of something new she has learned or can do. Her most recent contribution to the world was the creation of the word "marshmunnies," which is what she calls the bunny-shaped marshmallows I put in her Easter eggs. I revised the song I started three years ago to include both bookends. Here are the lyrics.

Outside the door
I watch a bird feather her nest
I'm glad for her
And hope for the nest.
I see the buds
Where the blossoms are soon to be
These are the signs
And wonders of Spring.

All the world's waiting for something new
Now that April showers have come and gone
I want you to know, we've been waiting, too,
For our special someone to come along

And it's changing me
Making me see life in a whole new way
I wake up wondering
What new secrets will you tell today?
Life is full, these days,
Of signs and wonders.

I can't keep
These secrets all to myself
That heartbeat
Is a story to tell.
I'm singing
Because from so early on, I knew
There'd never
Be anyone quite like you.

All the world's waiting for something new
Now that April showers have come and gone
I want you to know we've been watching you
The little star our twinkle has now become

And it's changing me
Making me see life in a whole new way
I wake up wondering
What new secrets will you reveal today?
Life is full, these days,
of signs and wonders.


Each of our lives are ordinary, but I have learned that it is ordinary to be full of wonder and possessed of extraordinary potential. It is normal to have a unique destiny. Life means so much.

"'No eyes has seen,
no ear has heard,
no mind has conceived
what God has prepared for those who love him.'" 1 Corinthians 2:9

Words of Wonder

Our songwriting group is going to discuss an article by Bob Kauflin, which is actually a chapter from a book, which is, in turn, sort of "proceedings" from a conference. The title of the chaper is: "Words of Wonder: What Happens When We Sing?" and the book is The Power of Words and the Wonder of God, eds. Justin Taylor and John Piper.

Kauflin immediately makes his claim about the importance of music to the church, and specifically, the importance of singing. His lengthy quote of Luther bears repetition, because it sets the tone for the whole essay:

When man's natural ability is whetted and polished to the extent that it becomes an art, then do we note with great surprise the great and perfect wisdom of God in music, which is, after all, His product and His gift; we marvel when we hear music in which one voice sings a simple melody, while three, four, or five other voices play and trip lustily around the voice that sings its simple melody and adorn this simple melody wonderfully with artistic musical effects, thus reminding us of a heavenly dance where all meet in a spirit of friendliness, caress, and embrace...A person who gives this some thought and yet does not regard it [music] as a marvelous creation of God, must be a clodhopper indeed and does not deserve to be called a human being; he should be permitted to hear nothing but the braying of asses and the grunting of dogs.


Kauflin notes: "We may not want to imitatate Luther's attitude, but we do want to imitate his passion for singing - because God himself is passionate about singing." He then goes on to provide proof texts, such as Ephesians 5:19 (part of being filled with the Spirit is singing certain songs), Zephaniah 3:17 (God sings), and Hebrews 2:12 and Psalm 22:22 (Christ "sings," although figuratively).

He then delves into the most important subject of his text, which is the importance of words to singing. He divides Christian attitudes into three categories:
1) Those who think music supercedes the Word - that it is more moving and more important.
2) Those who think music undermines the Word, and would separate them entirely.
3) Those who think music should serve the Word, and he is in this camp. And so am I.

He observes several ways music can serve the Word. First, it can help us remember words. This is very important, because memory is important. What we remember is what we really live by, regardless of what we may "know." I think of songs as ways of speeding up access to memory, like increasing RAM speed (surely in five years this will be an obsolete metaphor).

To make words memorable, Kauflin urges us to "use effective melodies." His example is "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing," which he describes is "a well-crafted lyric set to a memorable, singable, and pleasing tune"(125), and with this I would agree. Sometimes the melody of a hymn can be updated for a new generation, and Kauflin notes this is a good thing, preserving the lyrics for that generation.

Since we remember what we sing, Kauflin urges us to "sing words that God wants us to remember." He quotes Gordon Fee, "'Show me a church's songs and I'll show you their theology'" (126). A thought-provoking question is, what does my church's music say about my theology? A surprising point he makes is that we ought to memorize songs.

To further his argument about the benefits of songs for the church, Kauflin posits that "singing can help us engage emotionally with words." Kauflin describes two ways this works: songs allow us to take more time to reflect on the meaning of words, by adding a celebratory, mournful, or reverent melody music can augment the sentiment of the words we're singing. He makes the familiar point that music alone cannot make a propositional claim; only words are capable.

He then goes on to defend why it is important that songs do affect us emotionally. This was one of the most interesting parts of the paper to me. Kauflin wrote, "The emotions that singing is meant to evoke are responses to the truths we're singing about God - his glory, his greatness, and his goodness. Vibrant singing enables us to connect truth about God seamlessly, with passion, so that we can combine doctrine and devotion, edification and expression, mind and heart"(130). I like this kind of thinking.

The last benefit of singing he addresses is that it "can help us use words to demonstrate and express our unity." Very simply, "[s]inging enables us to spend extended periods of time communicating the same thoughts, the same passions, and the same intentions" (131). In singing corporately, we unite as a corpus - a body. Toward this end, Kauflin advises that we "sing songs that unite rather than divide the church" (131), recognize the functional limits of creativity for church music (132), remember that we are united by the gospel, not music (132) and anticipate singing in heaven (134).

The last point is thought-provoking from a writer's perspective. If I were a strict Reformed theologian, which I'm not, I would believe that the finest works of earth will find their place in God's kingdom. Like I said, I'm not Reformed - as far as I've looked into it I can't quite swallow it all - but I am intrigued by this idea. It has often made me wonder if there are any songs I know today that will make it into heaven's repertoire.