Rain, Rain ~ Come and Stay

Have you ever heard the children’s rhyme:

“Rain, Rain, Go Away. Little Tommy wants to play!”?

It was a fun one to sing, but I’ve always found myself mesmerized by raindrops. I loved watching their travels down a car window, and wondering which one would reach the bottom first as if they were racing against each other. I find something cozy and comforting in rain.

One of my favorite memories of a trip to England was turning This-Way-and-That-Way-and-This-Way-Again in the Hampton Court maze in the rain. (Of course, it was even better for I was nibbling on a slice of dreamy chocolate cake which we had purchased at a little tea shop across the way.)

Today, I looked at the week’s weather forecast for our city. It appears that we’re in for three straight days of rain. The actual forecast read:

Rain in the morning and continuing into the afternoon and starting again in the evening.

That seems pretty wet.

And, while I get my perfect rainy day Creamy Earl Grey tea out and think over a couple of movies I’d like to watch on Netflix, my thoughts also turn to rain in the Bible.

There’s Noah, of course, with A LOT of rain. (The details of Noah’s 150-day Animal Adventure Cruise can be found in Genesis 6-8.)

There’s Elijah first prayer for no rain (and God answered that prayer with no rain) and then his prayer for rain (and God answered that prayer with rain). Curious as to why? Check out 1 Kings 17-19.

It is a sign of blessing. (Leviticus 26:4 – “I will give you rains in their season, and the land shall yield its increase, and the trees of the field shall bear their fruit.”

It is a sign of God’s faithfulness. (Joel 2:22-23  – “Fear not, you beasts of the field, for the pastures of the wilderness are green; the tree bears its fruit; the fig tree and vine give their full yield. “Be glad, O children of Zion, and rejoice in the Lord your God, for He has given the early rain for your vindication; He has poured down for you abundant rain, the early and the latter rain, as before.”)

It is a sign of mercy. (Matthew 5:45 – “…For He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.”)

For a gardener like myself, rain is also a promise, if not a sign, of suppleness. Weeds pull so easily from soaked soil. Wilted branches stretch back out to their full height without breaking. Leaves on our deck–once brittle curls of yellow and brown–now lie flat and supple, glistening gold and amber on my deck.

And let blessing and mercy wash over me.

While I was in college, I had a mentor who said that when taking his morning shower, he often thought of the water pouring down over him as washing away his sins, his cares, his worries, and then filling him up to overflowing with God’s Spirit.

And let blessing and mercy wash over me, indoors as well.

I’d like to share with you the lyrics to the song “Wash Over Me” by Jamie Smith, a contemporary worship singer/songwriter:

Wash over me wash over me
Wash over me wash over me

Rain down Your favor on us
Lavish Your love upon us
Pour out Your presence on us
Let me taste Your mercy in the rain

Only You can take this heart
Only You can take this mind
Only You can take this life
And make it look like Jesus

Isn’t that last refrain a sober thought? Let’s feel the rain wash over us. Let’s become soaked and supple. May our faithful and merciful God bless us and work in us so we may more and more reflect Jesus to a thirsty world.

This will be my last post for a while. I’ve enjoyed walking with you, both of us beside Christ, our Savior. I hope and pray you’ve grown closer to Him or been intrigued to open the Bible. And it’s with the Bible that we both will continue to be–and with that in hand and written on our hearts, we are with Christ.

And lastly, consider Deuteronomy 32:1-3:

“Give ear, O heavens, and I will speak,
    and let the earth hear the words of my mouth.
  May my teaching drop as the rain,
    my speech distill as the dew,
like gentle rain upon the tender grass,
    and like showers upon the herb.
  For I will proclaim the name of the Lord;
    ascribe greatness to our God!

Grace and peace in Christ Jesus, our Savior, dear friend!

 

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Daily Doxology

How’s your day been today?

This morning, I was going on day 2 of washing dishes in the bathroom sink due to a stubborn clog somewhere in the deep recesses of an unseen line.

But that’s only this week. Earlier in this month, we’ve faced the clearing out of my childhood home, a daughter battling a bad concussion, and the end of our beloved dog’s 14 year life.

All that sometimes seems like a mighty weight of sadness and worry, and yet today I was overwhelmed to praise my Savior.

No, I didn’t get any overwhelming good news (well, apart from getting the sink running again by the hands of some skillful plumbers).

No, the skies weren’t full of sunshine, bluebirds, and puffy white clouds.

And no, we didn’t get a new puppy.

My morning started out with the Olympic event of clothes changing–5 times and still not me, but wearable. Rain drizzled. Quiet reigned. I sat at our kitchen table, folded my arms on the wooden surface, and lay my head down upon them–and prayed.

And as I was praying for light on the path, for leading through the storm, my heart broke and tears flowed.

I realized, how selfish I was.

  • Surrounded in clean clothes within the walls of a house with running water and air conditioning.
  • Supported by faithful family and friends who speak truth and love when I need it most.
  • Stayed firm and steadfast by the work of Christ on the cross and the empty tomb that holds His full measure of love.

Who was I to pray FOR something.

I could do nothing but praise the one who gave and did everything for me.

And how that lifted away all those worries and concerns! Death had no sting. Trials had no snare. Concerns had no importance. Suddenly, nothing mattered more than praising Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Doesn’t the Bible call us to praise Him through prayer and song? Consider Psalm 148, verses 11 and 12:

Praise him, kings and all peoples,
    princes and all other rulers;
     young women and young men,
    old people and children, too.

and Psalm 100, verses 1 through 4:

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth!
    Serve the Lord with gladness!
    Come into his presence with singing!

Know that the Lord, he is God!
    It is he who made us, and we are his;
    we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
    and his courts with praise!
    Give thanks to him; bless his name!

I quickly found versions of the Doxology hymn on my music system, and as I sang those simple words, God blessed me with peace.

I so encourage you ~ give it a try!

And if you’re curious about the Doxology hymn (as I was)…

 Thomas Ken, was an Anglican priest in England, in the 17th century. The Doxology is actually the chorus to two hymns he wrote for his students at Winchester College–one for the morning (“Awake, my soul, and with the sun”) and one for the evening (“Glory to thee, my God, this night). The full story of his most interesting life (and the full evening song) can be found at Hymn History

If you’re eager to hear the Doxology sung in beautiful new ways, open these links:

Here is the chorus ~ let it be the chorus of our lives, come trials and concerns or clogged drains and rain.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Praise Him all creatures here below

Praise Him above ye heavenly host

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost

Amen and Alleluia

 

3 Ways to Not Miss Out

This photo of our trusty dog and an open Bible shows the usual way my morning starts. A walk up and around our street together follows. But sometimes it’s raining  (like today) and we don’t go on a walk. Even more disruptive to my outlook and thinking is the reality that sometimes my morning doesn’t start that way at all. It’s like I jumpstart the day–diving right into the whitewater rush of activities. I let other details and pressing To-Do’s crowd out that most important time.

It seems we all have long lists of To-Do’s that clamor for our attention and time. Grocery shopping, doctors’ appointments, meals to prepare, opportunities to volunteer, car pool lines to wait in, bills to pay, dogs to wash, bathrooms to clean, unending piles of laundry… Whew! It’s exhausting to even think about sometimes, isn’t it–or at least it seems that way to me!

I’m a dedicated list maker and have succumbed some times to even putting the most mundane item–like “Get Mail”–on the list so I’ll be able to cross at least something out. That’s pretty pitiful, isn’t it?!

Many years ago, I read a little pamphlet entitled “Tyranny of the Urgent.” I don’t know who wrote it, but its wisdom has stayed with me. The pamphlet spoke about how we pay attention to the urgent things in life and sorrowfully neglect the important things in life. That’s a personal challenge to this list-maker. I’m usually reminded of that on my way up the driveway with the mail! I really miss uninterrupted time with God, reading His Word, and prayer.

In the mornings this month(or at least on most mornings), I’m reading through the Psalms in groups of 4 or 5 day in a book that brings them together with thoughts to ponder at the close of each group. (It’s Psalms by the Day by Alec Motyer and available at Christianbook.com.) Yesterday I had that time. The Psalms were wonderful and the thoughts were challenging, but what kept coming into my mind was our older neighbor next door, and I determined to go see her that morning.

And I did. And without our dog, so I could actually go in and visit a while.

I knocked on her door and she quickly answered. She was smiling and was dressed in cleaning clothes all spotted with paint.  She welcomed me inside and we sat in her living room. The vacuum sat still, tied up by its cord under the dining table behind us. She said she had just completed vacuuming and was expecting company the next day. As it turned out, a dear friend of hers from college days had unexpectedly died, and she had opened her home to several mutual friends to come and stay and all attend the funeral together. We remarked on the blessings of hospitality and friendship. Then she admitted that, as her friend had died suddenly, there were things she never had the opportunity to say to her. That was the true source of her sadness and the underlying reason for her hospitality. She wanted to tell those friends how much she treasured them and even how much more Jesus treasured them.

That is an important To-Do.

Suddenly, a beep went off in the hall. She laughed and confessed that the beeping had been going on all morning–and was at a loss to stop it. I determined it was a smoke detector in the hall whose battery was depleted. She produced a step stool and a new battery–and borrowing her reading glasses–I climbed up, replaced the battery, and the beeping stopped. She was so appreciative and remarked how I must have come for that very reason. Only God knows.

The funny thing is that I was given so much more than I gave. It caused me to ask myself what have I left unsaid, undone, or unheeded?

That brings me back to the faithful friend at the top of the page. We are in his last days now. Our long walks have become short but sweet ones. Playtime has become more infrequent. But he still loves to rest beside me as I read the Bible and pray and write at my desk (where he currently is, as in the photo below), at the kitchen table, or outside on the deck.

So that will be an important To-Do. Not a grand thing in the scale of things, but a comfort to him. And it will also spur me on to a consistent and beautiful time with God.

Likewise, and even more so, remembering to check on my neighbors will be an important To-Do: building community and looking for ways to serve, weeds to pull, and lives to impact for Christ.

So here is the list I’ve made: the “3 Ways to Not Miss Out” on the important things in life:

  1. “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Matthew 6:33
  2. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” Matthew 22:37
  3. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Matthew 22:38

And that sums up everything.

 

 

First Things First

How are things at your house? Here, some of the kids have already gone back to college, decorations are coming down, and leftovers have been mostly eaten. Yes, the tree is still up and fully decorated (and I think it’s still really lovely, see?)img_3333 but I’m hoping, with my husband’s help, the ornaments will be nestled in their bin by evening.

In the midst of putting away our collection of “snow”-covered houses,img_3334 I received a text from a dear friend. I’d received a few other texts earlier in the day–one from our local Juice Bar, another an address I’d requested–but this text was different. (more…)

Smoke and Fire in the Smoky Mountains

No photo needs to adorn this loss. It’s been in the news so frequently:

Out of Control fires in the Smoky Mountains and Surrounding Areas and Towns

And it raged on for days. While a good breeze and strong winds are sometimes a good and welcome turn in the weather, their timing in this area ended up having a disastrous influence on the fires. The winds exacerbated the flames and destruction spread with reckless speed.

Sadly, many of the homes in the areas were fully consumed down to their foundations, leaving only a lonely fireplace/chimney standing amidst the smoking dust. My cousin’s beloved green cabin was one of the casualties. In it mementoes and treasures were also consumed.

Then at last rains came. What a welcome they were, helping turn the tide of the remaining fires.

The fires have taken such a toll–both physically and mentally. When I first heard of the fires, my heart went out to all who were in the affected areas–the homeowners, the native animals, the firefighters. My prayers went up like the smoke with a request for rain and peace.

Then I remembered a favorite poem from years ago. I’ll share it here in hope that the perspective of this wise and historic Puritan poet might be a comfort to those who have suffered such a loss.

The poem is entitled “Verses upon the Burning of our House, July 10th, 1666.” Its author is Anne Bradstreet, one of the first female poets on what would years later become American soil. She was born in England in 1612 and immigrated with her husband and parents to the American colonies with the Winthrop Puritan group, settling in Massachusetts. There, she and her husband raised eight children and moved four times finally making a home in North Andover, Massachusetts. By then, many of her relatives (both older and younger than she) had passed and Anne herself was suffering from failing health, most probably tuberculosis.

It is this fourth house that burned to the ground. In the poem, she speaks of her loss and her memories, and she honestly recounts her regret. Even so, at the poem’s close, her pain and loss are overwhelmed by her faith in God and reliance on Christ. May God strengthen us to face loss with a similar perspective.

Be encouraged (and kindly be understanding of the 17th century speech and spelling):

“Verses upon the Burning of our House, July 10th, 1666”
 
“Here Follows Some Verses Upon the Burning
of Our house, July 10th. 1666. Copied Out of
a Loose Paper.
In silent night when rest I took,
For sorrow near I did not look,
I wakened was with thund’ring noise
And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.
That fearful sound of “fire” and “fire,”
Let no man know is my Desire.
I, starting up, the light did spy,
And to my God my heart did cry
To straighten me in my Distress
And not to leave me succourless.
Then, coming out, behold a space
The flame consume my dwelling place.
And when I could no longer look,
I blest His name that gave and took,
That laid my goods now in the dust.
Yea, so it was, and so ‘twas just.
It was his own, it was not mine,
Far be it that I should repine;
He might of all justly bereft
But yet sufficient for us left.
When by the ruins oft I past
My sorrowing eyes aside did cast
And here and there the places spy
Where oft I sate [sat] and long did lie.
Here stood that trunk, and there that chest,
There lay that store I counted best.
My pleasant things in ashes lie
And them behold no more shall I.
Under thy roof no guest shall sit,
Nor at thy Table eat a bit.
No pleasant talk shall ‘ere be told
Nor things recounted done of old.
No Candle e’er shall shine in Thee,
Nor bridegroom‘s voice e’er heard shall be.
In silence ever shalt thou lie,
Adieu, Adieu, all’s vanity.
Then straight I ‘gin [again] my heart to chide,
And did thy wealth on earth abide?
Didst fix thy hope on mould’ring dust?
The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?
Raise up thy thoughts above the sky
That dunghill mists away may fly.
Thou hast a house on high erect
Frameed by that mighty Architect,
With glory richly furnished,
Stands permanent though this be fled.
It‘s purchased and paid for too
By Him who hath enough to do.
A price so vast as is unknown,
Yet by His gift is made thine own;
There‘s wealth enough, I need no more,
Farewell, my pelf [money], farewell, my store [possessions].
The world no longer let me love,
My hope and treasure lies above.
Source: The Columbia Anthology of American Poetry (Columbia University Press, 1995)

“He Restores My Soul”

IMG_3198.jpgOur home has a small but lovely back yard and a wooden deck. I love the sound made when I walk across that wooden deck. Don’t know why! There are big maple trees towering overhead that offer bounteous shade and a sprinkling of autumn’s fall leaves. There’s a little table and two chairs, perfect for a quiet conversation. (We could enjoy some time together there, couldn’t we?) There’s a bench where I like to spread out my tea, my Bible, and my laptop. Here and there, flowers bloom in large pots. A rosemary bush scents the air. It’s beautiful to me. 

There’s just one problem:

When on the deck, there is NO internet connection!

(Cue thunder and threatening music.)

This might not seem like a terrible turn of events, and—in the big picture—it really isn’t. But at the moment, it was.

First, I grumbled, but of course, that didn’t do any good!

Then I decided to be pro-active and tried to s-t-r-e-t-c-h the internet booster out onto the deck. Sadly, the connection lines weren’t long enough. Technologically foiled!

So I took the only option there seemed to be. I closed the laptop and just sat there–on the bench, sipping my mug of hot tea.

img_3199

Have you ever felt like God just lit up His will in neon lights right in front of you?

Well, there weren’t any neon lights on the deck, and there was no special message in the Cape Cod towns written on my mug. It was Psalm 23, the Lord’s Prayer; it flooded my mind, especially verses 1-3:

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.”

Last week was close to overwhelming (although I’m sure it wasn’t the “valley of the shadow of death” David writes of in verse 4 of Psalm 23). I did, however, feel like I was barely keeping my head above water. Have you had weeks like that? Not that I wish that for you, of course, but I hope you can empathize! The activities were mostly good ones, but they were numerous:

  • Work
  • Grocery shopping
  • Meal prep
  • Bible study
  • Walk the dog
  • Run errands
  • Clean bathroom
  • Paint upstairs trim
  • Purchase fall plants
  • Plant fall plants
  • Pick up ordered items
  • Help a friend
  • Tutor students
  • Do laundry
  • Entertain friends
  • Write letters
  • Make phone calls
  • Do Sunday school preparation and
  • Clean rug (Our dog got sick on our family room rug—bring on the baking soda.)

There were some hard decisions in there, too. Throughout the week, I had prayed and prayed for direction and for peace, and I prayed that wordless cry of the soul that wells up from deep inside you, accompanied only by tears.

But this was different. There were no tears now.

I sat.

I took a deep breath of fresh air.

I watched a small nuthatch at the bird feeder.

I watched a hummingbird seek out one of our last geranium blossoms.

I felt the soft breeze drift over me, gentler than cashmere,

I heard the rustling tree branches overhead.

I heard the plunk of hickory nuts falling on and rolling down our neighbor’s roof.

I smelled the sweet, complex scent of my tea. (Sloane Tea’s “Heavenly Cream”—seriously!)

I released the worry and stress I had worn like accessories, increasingly added throughout the week.

I loosened my grip on my list of self-imposed “to-do’s” and thought about what was really most important—to love the Lord my God with all my heart, with all my mind, and with all my soul and to love my neighbor as myself. (Matthew 22: 34-40)

Now this isn’t brain surgery, but once I took my eyes off that list of self-determined to-do’s, I could sense the complete sufficiency of Jesus which superseded the whole list. Decisions and priorities became clear.

The Lord restored my soul.

Only then, did I come back inside, jot down some notes, and then pop back out and snap a couple photos.

Now it’s time to give my Mom a call and text a couple of college students. Then, I’ll make a second attempt at rug cleaning! The laundry, painting, and planting can wait for another time.

May the Lord restore you, too, dear friend!

For Deeper Insight. . .

A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23, Mass Market Edition - By: W. Phillip Keller I heartily encourage you to check out A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23, by W. Phillip Keller.

It’s an eye-opening book that unpacks the 23rd Psalm in an accurate, contextual, and most meaningful way. (It is also undoubtedly one of my favorites!) It makes a wonderful gift at Easter or anytime.

It’s available in many formats. Here’s the link to read more about it and purchase it at Christian Book Distributors: A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 by W. Phillip Keller