The Symphony of My Days

I sit on the little bench pulled close to the keyboard. My heart is pounding; my hands shaking. I have practiced the music for hours. I know the notes, the rhythm. She sits close beside, this teacher who is friend - filled with such grace and kindness. I fumble my way through the song, heart sinking. It sounds as though I never practiced a note, and I am so discouraged - yet again.

I apologize for notes played wrong, and she smiles, says it is fine. Gently she encourages me to stop being so hard on myself - to let perfectionism go. It is all right not to play it exactly as written - to miss a note here and there. I nod agreement all the while knowing that, although she is right, I will still try to get it right.

It is a life-long habit, this trying to win approval by being as good as I possibly can. It is an exercise in futility. I will never be all things to all people. I will fail; I will be wrong (oh dear!); there will be some people who just plain don't like me. But the striving has gotten me into places I never wanted to go. So I ask Him to change this perfectionist heart. And He gives me a picture:

I see Him, long before I was conceived, sitting with pen in hand and a long roll of blank sheet music before Him. He looks ahead in time, my life playing out in its entirety. He dips His pen in the ink and begins to write the symphony of my days.

The melody takes form - beautiful and lilting - until a discordant note makes its way onto the staff. Instead of reaching for the white-out, He continues forming notes on lines and spaces, some lovely some so out of tune.

He doesn't crumble up the paper in frustration and toss it in the trash. He keeps composing - incorporating the notes made up of the wrong choices, failures and rebellion of an all-too-human heart into the song.

When He is finished, He picks up the music and seats Himself at the grand piano. I wait, heart pounding, to hear the discordant music of my life. His hands move gently over the keyboard and liquid notes pour into the room - a beautiful melody of grace and love.

He turns to me and holds my gaze with eyes that look deep within my heart and simply nods slowly.

Linking to Emily's imperfect prose today



Blessings,
Linda

Poetry in Motion

Look who came to visit yesterday:

I think the drought has made us the only "watering hole" in the neighborhood.

I had a poem dancing around in my head this morning, but then I glanced out the bedroom window. There they were again, and the Master Poet was busily writing a more eloquent poem than I ever could.

Given to us with joy and grace by a loving Father.

linking to One Stop Poetry today - they are celebrating their first anniversary!

Blessings,
Linda

A Letter to God

Dear Lord,

It's me, and it's the same old thing. I thought I'd better talk to You about it. It's festering, and I know it will only spread its poison deep into my heart if I don't.

I had such hope when I reached out that last time. I told myself not to expect too much, not to expect anything at all really, but my heart just doesn't seem to listen to my head. I waited with hope for a long time, going over all the valid reasons why it wasn't sensible to expect an answer. But then I began to feel the hurt and resentment bubble up from down deep inside.

I tried Father, I really did. I even wrote a poem about not letting feelings rule my heart. I knew what You wanted me to do. I am so slow to learn. I looked again  this morning. When there was nothing there, I just let the feelings overwhelm me.

It is amazing the way one emotion snowballs into another, gathering momentum and size the longer I allow it to roll unhindered by wisdom or reason. Disappointment, to anger, to bitterness to discouragement, to a turning inward that shuts everything else down. It begins to color every area of my life until all I see is covered in shadow.

I began to rattle off the list of things I would never do again, the ways I would never put myself out there again, the ways I was such a failure. And then You reminded me:

A conversation with my daughter - just a few short days ago - when she was so upset with a friend that amidst a shower of tears she declared the friendship over. When the anger subsided a bit, she admitted there was just the slightest chance there may have been a misunderstanding, a reasonable explanation. I dispensed my dose of motherly wisdom, and she wrote to the friend. The misunderstanding was cleared up and the friendship salvaged.

Before she wrote that letter, I told her there was always the possibility that it wouldn't be - that the hurt might have been deliberate. Then there could have been forgiveness - even if there had been no apology. We always have that choice. When we chose to forgive, even under those circumstances, we let go of the anger and bitterness that hurt us far more than the other person.

Thank You for reminding me. Thank You for Your infinite patience with this oh so slow to learn daughter. Forgive me for letting my feelings take precedence over my faith. I know the enemy likes nothing better. Look how far off course I let him take me.

I'm giving this to You - yet again Father. I don't want to ever take it back again. I don't imagine the situation will change, but I choose to embrace forgiveness and grace. They are the gifts You have given me in abundance. How could I withhold them from anyone else?

 Ephesians 4:31-32

"Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you."

With deep reverence and love,
Linda

picture:Henriette Browne, 'A Girl Writing', oil painting, about 1860-1880. Museum no. 1083-1886

Fairest Lord Jesus

This week I'm highlighting one of my favorite hymns. It's history is a bit cloudy. Thought to be written around 1607 by German Jesuits, it first appeared in print anonymously in 1677 in a German Roman Catholic publication. Of the four verses the first three were translated from German and the last added, in English in 1873, by Lutheran Pastor Joseph A. Seiss.


Fairest Lord Jesus

Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler of all nature,
Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor,
Thou, my soul's glory, joy and crown.

Fair are the meadows, fairer still the woodlands,
Robed in the blooming garb of spring;
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer,
Who makes the woeful heart to sing.

Fair is the sunshine, fairer still the moonlight,
And all the twinkling starry host;
Jesus shines brighter, Jesus shines purer
Than all the angels heaven can boast.

Beautiful Savior! Lord of all the nations!
Son of God and Son of Man!
Glory and honor, praise, adoration,
Now and forever more be Thine.



Blessings,
Linda

Wonder/ Five-Minute Friday

Our Five-Minute Friday prompt is "wonder". (Just five minutes of writing without planning or editing!)

go:

Another drought. The rains that filled the lakes and streams last fall seemed to disappear, and only a few inches have fallen so far this year. The earth is cracked and dry and the beds of rivers and creeks lie exposed to the unrelenting sun. We look to the heavens and cry out for rain. For days, weeks, months we cry out to God for rain.

Last time I wondered if He heard - became anxious and fearful that for some reason He was punishing me, turning a dear ear. But the rains did come; they came in abundance. I was so thankful - and perhaps this slow learner was even a bit wiser.

This time I didn't wonder, but oh how I prayed. Two nights ago, as I lay down, I saw the faintest light flash across the dark sky. I couldn't sleep. I prayed and prayed. The lightning increased in frequency and then came the distant roll of thunder. The trees trembled - and the rains came.

I got out of bed and walked to the big kitchen windows and watched in wonder as answered prayer poured from the heavens. Wonder that He would hear and answer prayer; that He loved us enough to see the parched earth and send down life-giving rain. He is a wonder- more wonderful than mere words can express.

stop



Blessings,
Linda

Feelings and Faith

Her name is Feelings.
She dances onto center stage of my heart
twirling, glittering
pushing the Other into darkened corner,
beautiful face hidden from view.
I wait to see.
Will her perfect features light
the stage
Or will she be wearing
one of those masks?

Her mask of Discouragement,
with down-turned mouth
and hooded eyes,
portends a day heavy and dark,
words of condemnation
ringing in my ears.

Worry's mask, eyes anxiously
looking all around,
foretells hours of
imagined terrors,
a frantic trying to
gain control.

The eyes in the mask of fear
cause me to look away,
to long for a place
of safety
to hide behind voice
loudly spewing words
that hurt and demean.

With sigh of relief
I see she wears the
mask of happiness and
satisfaction today;
together we will chase
joy at breakneck speed,
stuff the other masks
behind her back
and let self have her way.

The other waits quietly
in darkened corner;
waits for awakening
to the truth
that Feelings is a false friend,
her promises empty
her ways destructive.

Faith waits,
face serene and glowing,
feet firmly grounded
on Words that have
stood the test of time;
on the testimony of lives transformed,
filled with joy, peace and contentment.
She waits to take center stage.

linking to Emily's imperfect prose today





Blessings,
Linda

A Divine Encounter

As soon as we arrive home from a trip out of town, we collect our suitcases from the baggage claim area, walk them out to the parking lot, load them in trunk, pile into the car and head to the Alamo Cafe - nearly every time. The Tex-Mex food calls our names, welcoming us back home to Texas.

We walk past the fountains bordering the path and step through the doors. There they are right behind the glass - fresh tortillas making their way through the fascinating machine that takes the round balls of dough and presses them flat. The baskets of tortilla chips sit on shelves waiting to accompany us to our tables.

Although we've been there countless times, we cannot resist looking up at the ceiling. There a blue sky and white fluffy clouds transition from sunrise to sunset as special lightning makes its way across the length of the restaurant.

A wall of noise meets us as we make our way down the gentle slope that runs along a little indoor waterway. Everyone seems to be talking at once. It is this, the feeling of family, as well as the delicious food that welcomes us home.

We hadn't been on a trip away from home, but we made our way there last Saturday evening after church - because, after all, you just have to every so often. Our hostess took us to our table in the center of the large dining room, leading the way with chips and salsa. As soon as I was seated, she caught my eye.

Seated at the table next to us was a young father with two little girls. One with lovely golden skin and shiny black hair, the other fair with hair that curled gently around her face. She was flirting outrageously with the older man seated behind us. He was so taken with her. I think she was around two - perhaps a bit younger. Her little sister didn't look more than a year younger.

Dad was doing very well with his girls - doling out little morsels of food, soothing the occasional cries. Then Mom came to the table - with another little girl who looked very much like the baby. She was about the same age as the little flirt. I, being a very well brought up lady, tried really hard not to stare, but I was so fascinated. The three girls were so close in age, it must have been a bit like having triplets.

Mom didn't get to stay in her seat for more than a few minutes at a time - taking one after the other to the rest room, retrieving dropped cups and feeding the little one. Dad was very busy too. The girls were so good with only a little bit of crying every now and then. At one point the young father looked at me (I guess I wasn't as subtle as I had hoped to be) and said, "I'm sorry for all the noise and mess."

I just smiled, "I think you're doing a wonderful job."

And they were. They never seemed upset or flustered. They were so patient and good humored.

We talked for a few minutes and discovered that all three of the children had been adopted. The two little dark-haired girls were siblings. Apparently the timing of the adoptions had taken them by surprise, but they were obviously smitten with their sweet daughters.

"It wasn't quite the way we had planned," she said, "but it was God's plan."

Ah yes, God's plan, and His plans are always good.

We finished our meal a bit before them, said good-by and walked out to the parking lot.

"I should have paid for their dinner," my husband said as we got to the car.

"I think they're still there."

They were. He did. We were so blessed.

Blessings,
Linda

Treasures

"We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures." ~Thornton Wilder

Here are some of the treasures I found this past week. They were given to me by a Father who gives good and perfect gifts.

little visitors to our home:

celebrating a birthday

a dear son and a precious granddaughter

- a handsome rooster and his lady friends sashaying across the road (saw them while out taking my walk - and no camera!)

- cooling shade and fresh breezes

- little squirrel eating apple cores

- He hears and cares

- my husband - his love and faith

- a young woman sold out for Jesus - her incredible words

- a lazy afternoon and a good movie

- running water

- chocolate with nuts

- striped birthday candles

linking to Ann's today

Blessings,
Linda

Thanks to God/ Happy Father's Day

On this day when we celebrate fathers, I looked for a hymn that would celebrate our Heavenly Father. I am so thankful for my Dad - the guy with the sometimes gruff exterior that hides the tenderest of hearts; the one who got down on the floor for tickle-fights with his two little girls; the one who took us fishing and never minded having to get my hooks out of the trees when my casting skills left a bit to be desired; the one who set a Godly example and who has always been there for us; the one who prays for each of his loved ones every day by name.

I am also deeply thankful for a Father in Heaven who loves me unconditionally and covers me with grace. Here are the words to a hymn whose author is anonymous but whose words convey that gratitude:

Thanks to God for my Redeemer,
Thanks for all Thou dost provide!
Thanks for times now but a memory,
Thanks for Jesus by my side!
Thanks for pleasant, balmy springtime,
Thanks for dark and dreary fall!
Thanks for tears by now forgotten,
Thanks for peace withing my soul.

Thanks for prayers that Thou has answered,
Thanks for what Thou dost deny.
Thanks for storms that I have weathered,
Thanks for all Thou dos supply.
Thanks for pain, and thanks for pleasure,
Thanks for comfort in despair.
Thanks for grace that none can measure,
Thanks for love beyond compare!

Thanks for roses by the way-side,
Thanks for thorns their stems contain.
Thanks for homes and thanks for fire-side,
Thanks for hope, that sweet refrain.
Thanks for joy and thanks for sorrow
Thanks for heavenly peace with Thee.
Thanks for hope in the tomorrow,
Thanks thro' all eternity!


I listened to several versions of this hymn on you-tube. When I heard this, despite the fact that it is not in English, I knew it was the one. These sweet voices are so fitting. Enjoy - and Happy Father's Day to all the Dads.




Blessings,
Linda

More Wedding Pictures Than You Ever Wanted To See!

My daughter and I have been having a great time looking at all the beautiful wedding pictures. It is hard to choose just a few out of so many, but I forced myself! Here we go:

the bride and groom sharing a moment before the guests arrive

We are now family!

Lisa, me and Steve

Grandpa and grandson - always having fun!

the cake

a kiss from Grandma

It was a lovely evening. We have a new son who is loving, wise and gentle. We are blessed.

With love,
Linda

Home Is Where the Heart Is

The word for today's Five Minute Friday is Home:

go:

There are some expressions that have become trite in their familiarity. "Home is where the heart is." It trips easily off the tongue and is so comfortable that it has lost a bit of its import.

When I think of home, it isn't the hundred year old house with its two porches, white wooden siding and the secret staircase to my bedroom with the tiny window. The one my Dad labored for five years to restore after a hard eight hour day. The one that still fills my Mom's heart with yearning.

For me, even in my sixties, it is them - my Mom and Dad. Wherever they are, whether in the big house they moved to in Pennsylvania, or the little apartment in the back of our house, or the new little home just a thirty minute drive from here they are home.

When I walk in the door, they are what speak home to me. The warmth of knowing I am a cherished child and always welcome....

stop

Please join us at Lisa-Jo's blog and add your words about home.

Blessings,
Linda

picture: Mom, Dad and me - the beginning of home

The Master Designer

I have been knitting ever since I was a little girl. My first attempts resulted in less than perfect projects – filled with holes where I dropped stitches and lumps where I made mistakes. In spite of that, I loved knitting and kept working at it until I eventually learned to make nice even stitches. In time I learned how to follow a pattern using different stitches. The finished products were much more rewarding!

However, there is one thing I have never done in all these years of working needles through yarn and that is to design a pattern of my own. I have great admiration for the ones who do it. I simply read the directions and do what they tell me to do.

...I have written in a lovely place today: Laced With Grace Please join me there?
Thank you dear friends.

Blessings,
Linda

Why?

I long to know the answers
to the questions called too high
to plumb the depths of mysteries,
find the key that unlocks why.
Then I would own contentment,
and my heart would be at rest
For I would solve the riddle
Of the way that You call best.

The question comes - "What have you done
to warrant such as this;
Created one thing by your word
Brought light from the abyss?
Can you alone put stars in place
or cause the world to spin?
Can you control the seats of power
or know the hearts of men?"

The questions leave me breathless
demanding tongue lies still
In fear and awe the quaking heart
surrenders to His will;
Without desired answers
Without the longed-for key,
With simple trust in knowing
that someday I will see.

linking to One Stop Poetry today

Blessings,
Linda

Can You Hear Me God?

“Grandma, let’s go outside and swing.” We were all together, all four generations, at my son and daughter-in-law’s home, and my youngest granddaughter wanted a push on her swing. She is a tiny wisp of a girl with huge brown eyes, long light brown hair that curls lightly around her shoulders and a sweet shy smile. The only thing big about her is her voice. As the youngest of five children, she has learned to up the volume if she wants to be heard. She is so precious, and I love spending time with her.

So we bundled up (because temperatures in the 50’s feel mighty cool to us Texans) and headed outside to the swing set. I helped her onto the swing and began to gently push her. “Higher Grandma!” she cried. I pushed a bit harder. Now she was going about as high as her swing would allow. As she reached the highest point of the arc she looked up into the sky and yelled as loudly as her three year old voice could yell, “Can you hear me God?”


It took me by surprise, and I was quiet for a moment. Then I said, “Of course He can hear you honey. He can hear you if you just whisper. He can hear you if you just say the words in your heart. He is right here with us.”

She didn’t say anything for a little while, just continued swinging. Then as her swing reached toward the heavens, “Can You hear me Jesus? Can You hear me God?”

One day this little one will understand that He does indeed hear every word – spoken and unspoken. Right now that is a difficult concept for a three year old mind. I am all grown up, but there are times when, like Grace, I want to shout to the heavens, “Can You hear me God?” Times when God seems so very distant, and I want desperately to know He has heard my prayer.

“Can You hear me God?” The answer echoes down through time from the pen of the Psalmist, as he was directed by the Holy Spirit:

“I love the Lord, because He hears my voice and my supplications. Because He has inclined His ear to me, therefore I shall call upon Him as long as I live.”
Psalm 116: 1, 2 (NAS)

“Even before there is a word on my tongue, behold, O Lord, Thou dost know it all.”
Psalm 139: 4 (NAS)

“I sought the Lord, and He answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.”
Psalm 34: 4 (NAS)

“In the morning, O Lord, Thou wilt hear my voice; in the morning I will order my prayer to Thee and eagerly watch.”
Psalm 5: 3 (NAS)

Yes Grace, He can hear you.

Blessings,
Linda

a repost from the archives because we are celebrating my sweet husband's birthday today

Thanks In the Hard Times

Some days it is hard to give thanks. It just is. Several days ago I had a great Gratitude Post all planned - cute pictures of little critters coming to the birdbath for a drink, grace-filled moments added to the list. But today I don't feel very much like downloading those pictures or writing out the list. Someone I love dearly is hurting, and words of thanks come hard. I confess it; they come hard.

I am learning the benefit of writing scripture on the heart. I haven't searched for verses, but the ones I've stored up come to mind. The words live; they minister.

"Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."
I Thess. 5:18

"Do not fear for I am with you, do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you; surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand."
Is. 41:10

"You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in You, all whose thoughts are fixed on You."
Is. 26:3

"Ah Lord God, behold, Thou has made the heavens and the earth by Thy great power and Thine outstretched arm. Nothing is too difficult for Thee."
Jer. 32:17

"Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You. Show me the way I should go, for to You I lift up my soul."
Ps. 143:8

"Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty."
Ps. 91:1

"And in those days when you pray I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly you will find Me."
Jer. 29:12,13

"Come to Me all who are weary and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble of heart and you shall find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My load is light."
Matt 11:28-30

More than mere words, they live and breath and move. And more than my words, which are small and weak, can ever rightly express - it is true. These breathing words speak into a troubled heart and change everything. Feelings give way to truth, and truth makes a heart grateful.

I am thankful, that when circumstances seem to overwhelm, He proves Himself faithful - over and over and over again. He speaks and the darkness gives way to light, the burden is lifted and the enemy has to leave.

joining my grateful heart with others at Ann's

Blessings,
Linda

Praise Him! Praise Him!

In a world that seems to have tilted out of control in recent months, it is all too easy to become discouraged and feel weighted down. If I take just a moment to change my perspective and look heaven-ward, to see the One who holds all things, ALL THINGS, in His mighty hands I find my spirits lifting. When I remember who He is and what His love has done in my life, everything else fades into the background.

And in the remembering, my heart cannot help but praise Him.

This hymn is another written by Fanny Crosby. I am so grateful that rather than becoming bitter over her lot in life, she chose to trust the Father and give her heart to Him. He, in turn, filled her and used her to bring blessing beyond anything she could have imagined.

It should be such an encouragement to us to see what God can do with a life fully surrendered to Him.




1 Praise Him! praise Him!
Jesus, our blessèd Redeemer!
Sing, O Earth,His wonderful love proclaim!
Hail Him! hail Him!
highest archangels in glory;
Strength and honor give to His holy name!
Like a shepherd Jesus will guard his children,
in His arms he carries them all day long:

[Refrain:]
Praise Him! praise Him!
tell of His excellent greatness;
praise Him! praise Him
ever in joyful song!

2 Praise Him! praise Him!
Jesus, our blessèd Redeemer!
For our sins He suffered, and bled and died;
He our Rock, our hope of eternal salvation,
Hail Him! Hail Him!
Jesus the Crucified.
Sound his praises! Jesus who bore our sorrows,
love unbounded, wonderful deep and strong: (Refrain)

3 Praise Him! praise Him!
Jesus, our blessèd Redeemer!
Heavenly portals loud with hosannas ring!
Jesus, Savior, reigneth forever and ever;
crown Him! crown Him!
Prophet and Priest and King!
Christ is coming! over the world victorious,
power and glory unto the Lord belong: (Refrain)


"I will praise the Lord all my life, I will sing praise to my God as long as I live." (Psalm 146:2)

Blessings,
Linda

Backwards

I am taking part in Five-Minute Friday today. Lisa-Jo has thrown out the topic, and I'm ready to go:

Backwards

I spend far to much time doing it, this looking back over my shoulder. There are some nights sleep eludes as I wander back to the years I somehow wish the Lord would grant me a "do-over" on. They are all grown and doing well. We are, in face, in awe of the amazing people they have become. It is quite humbling, for I know it was very little of my own doing and almost all His grace.

I think back to wasted moments, when I was too consumed with self to do the things that I would gladly do now. Why wasn't I wise enough to cherish the moments?

I have found, though, that it is difficult to move forward well when you are looking backwards. I have learned to do things a bit differently - am still learning in fact. When faced with choice of self or time spent with others I am making better decisions. Instead of longing for time to move quickly so I can get to the next thing (that looks so much more appealing from where I stand), I am learning to live in the moment.

stop






Blessings,
Linda

His Upside-Down Kingdom

Your kingdom, Lord,
is an upside down one:
die to gain
give to receive
bow low to be exalted
last will be first
poor become rich.

But this Father:
love my enemies
pray for them.
She has caused such
heartache and pain,
to those I love
most dearly;
and to me-
inexplicable and undeserved.

Bitterness and anger
have filled my heart,
it is a struggle to keep
from lashing out
with words that will
inflict pain
and satisfy a need
for my idea of justice.

Your thoughts are
not my thoughts.
Your idea is pray.

I bow the knee-
difficult, almost impossible,
at first
Circumstances don't change,
but something in
my heart begins to move.
And peace
I cannot understand
comes like a gentle balm.

I cannot fathom
Your ways, Lord,
in this upside-down kingdom,
but they are good.

joining Emily at imperfect prose today


Blessings,
Linda

A Journal

I have been tippy-toeing through the afternoons looking for quiet things to do while the "patient" rests. It's rather a nice state of affairs. After all, things like vacuuming will never do when one is trying to be silent.

I haven't been keeping a Journal in recent months, and I've missed it. Life seems somehow "unfinished" if I don't write it down. I had a nice book filled with heavy white pages just waiting to be filled. So I quietly gathered my supplies and went to work:

Pages filled with beautiful images and empty pages waiting.


Blessings,
Linda

Thirsty

The earth is thirsty Lord
cracked
dry
brown
dying
crying out for rain.

The oaks are thriving Lord
tall
green
growing
roots plunged down deep
finding life-giving water.

I am thirsty Lord
empty
dry
stagnant
longing for Your touch.

Cultivate my heart Lord
prune
cleanse
fill
draw
that I might put down roots
and find living water.

"And the Lord will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched places, and give strength to your bones; And you will be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters do not fail."
Isaiah 58:11

sharing with One Stop

Blessings,
Linda

Be Still My Soul

Psalm 46:10
"Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth."

The months have slipped by since I first wrote about my word for this year: "Quiet." When I heard the Lord whispering that word into my heart, I thought primarily about my tongue, and the lack of control thereof, and my surroundings - shutting off the noise all around me. However, I have since discovered that He had much more in mind when He chose this simple word.

These days, while still working on guarding my tongue and creating a quiet atmosphere in our home, I am thinking more about keeping a quiet heart. It simply isn't possible for me to control the circumstances of my life the way I would like to. There can be turmoil and tumult deep inside even when all around me is quiet. It is then that I need to take a moment to still my heart and go to Him, trusting that He is with me.

Trust is something I keep coming back to. It is the place of perfect peace and rest. When I remember who He is and what He has promised to do, my heart slows its frantic pace. Though circumstances may still rage around me, there is a reservoir of peace and a place of quiet deep within.

This hymn speaks so eloquently the things I want to say. It was written by Katharine von Schlegel centuries ago. There is little known about this German woman. She was born in 1696 and died in 1768. It was a time when there was a spiritual revival known as the Pietistic Revival taking place in Germany, similar to the Wesleyan and Puritan movements.

The Christian Church had grown stagnant during the Middle Ages, and with the revival of evangelism came the renewal of hymn singing. New hymns were written which were filled with piety, Christian experience and faithfulness to the Scriptures. This is one such hymn.

As a little side-note, it was the favorite hymn of Olympic athlete Eric Liddell. His refusal to run on the Sabbath was documented in the movie "Chariots of Fire." During the second World War Eric, serving as a missionary in China, was taken captive. He taught this song to the other prisoners in the camp.

Eric died of a brain tumor during his captivity. The story is told that while he lay dying he asked that this song be played. The beautiful words surely must have blessed and quieted his heart.


Be Still My Soul

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.
Be still, my soul: thy Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord.
When disappointment, grief and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past
All safe and blessèd we shall meet at last.

Be still, my soul: begin the song of praise
On earth, be leaving, to Thy Lord on high;
Acknowledge Him in all thy words and ways,
So shall He view thee with a well pleased eye.
Be still, my soul: the Sun of life divine
Through passing clouds shall but more brightly shine.



Blessings,
Linda

P.S. Nancy Leigh DeMoss taught this past week on "Keep a Quiet Heart." It was a deeply moving series. You can listen at her website Revive Our Hearts.
I know you'll be blessed.

GLAD!!!

Have you noticed that there are some passages in scripture that become so familiar we are apt to read over them without actually letting the words touch our hearts? I confess, it often happens to me.

Then there are moments when that gentle nudge causes you to stop for a moment, and in that small pocket of time the words come alive.

It happened to me this morning when I was reading my little devotional, "Daily Light." The page was filled with verses about God being with us.

John 20:19-20
King James Version (KJV)

"Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, came Jesus and stood in the midst, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you.

And when He had so said, he shewed unto them His hands and His side. Then were the disciples glad, when they saw the LORD."

They are so familiar to this Sunday School girl who spent years, blessed years, memorizing scripture and trying to win every "Sword Drill" our teachers threw at us. But there was a catch in my heart this time.

There they all were, Jesus' disciples, bereft and frightened - but with a glimmer of hope having heard the report that the tomb was empty. Waiting...with doors locked and imaginations running wild.

Suddenly He was there in the room with them. Did they rub their eyes to make sure what they were seeing was real? Did they even know it was really Him? He knew their hearts and saw their thoughts revealed in expressions of hope and fear. He showed them the scars, and they knew.

The Bible says,"Then were the disciples glad..." GLAD!?! I think the Father must have smiled a bit when He had John pen that word. Understatement can't begin to describe it, I thought. GLAD!

What must it have been like to see Him after witnessing the events of the past few days? This One whom they loved and in whom all their hopes rested. This One who they thought had gone away forever. This One who had loved them enough to die for them. I can only imagine the tears and hugs and smiles and perhaps just a little jumping for joy.

What will it be like, I wondered, when I see Him? Will I be glad? Oh yes, I will. But it will be so much more than glad. When I'm able to get my face up off the ground, I want to dance and leap and sing for joy. Glad, glad, glad. Unending happiness to be with the One who gave Himself for me, who lives to make intercession for me, who pours grace and mercy into my sin-sick heart and clothes me in His righteousness.

Yes, I will be glad!! And the amazing part is - He will be glad too. I am overwhelmed by such love.

Hopping over to join Emily's imperfect prose.

Blessings,
Linda