Old Hymns

Too Much Information

We are all inundated with stuff, news, videos, images, voices and noise all day long. I think of the line from the old show Cheers:

“Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got. Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot, wouldn’t you like to get away….”

No wonder we need vacations, staycations, and every other kind of “cation” we can think of. The reason bars and pubs have been such popular hangouts down through the ages is because living is hard for the working class. That’s not to say that rich people don’t have stress, they just have a different kind of stress. They have endless options of things to look forward to. Propel themselves forward in different ways. They hire people to do some of the things that take up so much of the rest of our time, for instance. This is just a small example. This morning, I went to visit my 92-year-old Aunt. The refuse company took her garbage can today, just took the whole can. She called them and got someone from Arizona (we are in California) Hopefully, she will get a new can by next Friday.

Then, she got a letter from the utility company wanting her to reapply for the discount program she is signed up for. There were two full pages of small print for her to fill out. There was another sheaf of papers for her to fill out for her referral for the specialist she is supposed to see. It’s never-ending. Those kinds of things are what we (the masses) have to do on a daily basis. It’s not that hard for me, I can go online but imagine being 92 and never having used a computer or a smart phone.

It’s in these ordinary working, waking, sometimes exasperating moments of life where God can come quietly and give us that Supernatural Rest (click to open AI) with a capital “R.” And that’s very welcome news, because in those moments where you feel “stuck” that is comfort indeed. For me, nature has always been a conduit for God’s rest. Other ways for me are reading certain authors. A book I return to over and over again is Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours. Each Chapter is like breathing fresh air. Another is walking. Nothing untangles my mind like taking a walk. Sometimes I listen to Bach radio on Pandora and sometimes I just focus on sounds. Birds, lawnmowers, people talking.

This year I joined a Bible study which has rekindled my love for the Word and changed certain things in me that never would’ve happened without it. In answering some of the questions we are challenged to be brutally honest with others and ourselves. And when we sing the hymn before dismissal, I find the peace I used to know walking to church on summer evenings (that I never knew I had then, but I know it now.)

Whatever it is for you, find that thing and do it. Pray, seek God. If you can’t find the words to pray, just thank Him for all He’s given you. And most importantly, turn off the news! Have a splendid and wonderful Saturday, folks!

“My soul finds rest in God; from him comes my salvation; my soul finds rest in God; from Him comes my hope.” Psalm 62:1-2

Coming Home

“Those who live in the shadow of the most high will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.’ Psalm 91:1-2

It’s been so long since I’ve been here that I feel as if I have crept into the back door of my childhood home, letting myself in with the spare key. I can almost hear the creak of the screen door. I actually did do a recording of that squeak once, not wanting to forget what it sounded like. I drive by there from time to time to check on my brother’s rental that was put in the trust when he died, since its about 3 doors down.

The explanation for why I haven’t been here. I guess it’s just that the words haven’t come, not for lack of things happening in and outside of my life but for lack of thinking that any of it matters to anyone else. I tell myself it’s all part of the journey of writing. I hear people talk about it, the silence. I guess there is a place for it, otherwise why the 400 years of silence between Isaiah and the New Testament?

I recently started a Bible Study that I’m really enjoying. My childhood friend invited me and it’s held at a small Baptist Church that reminds me of church the way it used to be. We gather together in the sanctuary with the leader ( a little 4’11” dynamo) with a sparkle in her eyes and her spirit and a humble heart. We sing a hymn (from an actual hymnal) then she prays for us and we are released into our small groups and work through our study with a leader. We then meet back in the main hall where Pam goes through all our questions with a final lecture. I find myself looking forward to each lesson. I feel it bubbling through me like living water.

Getting back to the theme of home, where I think this is all going. Anytime we delve into Scripture, it’s a bit like coming home all over again. That is, if we put a bit of work into it. And this actual home we moved into, oh my friends, we are enjoying it so much. Eight years of living in a very small space does a number on you. For those who forgot or didn’t know, when we moved back here, we lived on my aunt’s property on the Mokelumne River. (Click on link to see) It fed my nature loving soul and it was a beautiful setting for sure. That part of it I miss but it was so restrictive in many ways. (And tiny) Constant worry over maintenance of an older RV and 50-year-old trees falling among other things and we were done.

So, we are home. This is the final resting place this side of Heaven unless there is an earthly purgatory in the form of a care home (God forbid). Not being able to care for yourself is a real downside of getting older. As my aunt says (she’s 92 now) “It’s not for sissies.”

It’s kind of weird how God and life work if you pay attention. About 40 years ago I came to this very same mobile home park. I went out on a spiritual limb and said yes to God (it was actually my aunt and uncle) but the much bigger yes is the one I said to God when he asked me to sing with their small group. ( A solo with canned background music) To this day I’m not sure why I said yes. Singing a solo was about as far from my personality as it gets. But He came through for me then and He has never left my side. All these years later, here I am and here He is.

So thank you for anyone here still reading and caring. The kittens we got from the Balam Foundation in Mexico are thriving. Atticus has attached himself to me and Scout has made Elaine his mama. Of course, we love them both equally. Needless to say, there will be no Christmas trees inside this year. We got some decorations up and I found Santa on the ground this morning with a few small parts missing. So far that is the only casualty. And for the first time in 9 years, we are cooking a turkey for Thanksgiving. Life is good friends. Most importantly God is good.

If you are still here, thank you for slogging along with me. I hope you and yours have a very Blessed Thanksgiving this year from my humble Prayer Closet……Peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Lori

New Every Morning

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning. Lamentations 3:22

”It’s been a too long time, with no peace of mind and I’m waiting for the times to get better…….” Songwriter: Allen Reynolds

I was meditating on the Lamentations verse this morning and once again filled with thanksgiving that we have this living hope we can stand on. It’s a promise God offers us every single day. What a wonder, in this troubled world we live in. Where are the ready smiles on the street? It seems to me that people are burdened. Then, while watching the Olympics last night there was the commercial with that old Crystal Gayle song. Elaine said, “I Do Not Like that commercial, it’s so sad.” Yes it is, but it seems like an honest depiction of a lot of people’s lives right now. Nothing is getting cheaper, crime is everywhere. We have to really look to find the good. We open our phones in the morning and are assaulted with an endless barrage of whatever the media thinks we need to know.

When I get weary of it all, I usually go to YouTube funny animal videos to cleanse my mental palette.

This morning I prayed for the first time in the new shop. It was a short session but it was a breath of fresh air. I haven’t had a place of prayer in years. I know, we can pray anywhere and I do. Arrow prayers all day. But having a quiet place to go to without interruption is different. My prayer was one of gratitude that even though the world seems to be in chaos all around us. God’s mercies are new every morning. What a gift. I pray that it’s a reality in all our lives.

We thought we would never live here. In this park, I mean. We had another “senior” park all picked out but it just didn’t gel. And we got tired of waiting. When we moved in, our neighbor had quite a few negative things to say about the park and management in general. We thought at the time that he was being nit picky and ridiculous. Now he is gone (the park bought him out). By no means am I bragging when I say we have made this place gorgeous. And management has taken issue with some of our positive changes, while other resident’s places are falling down around them. Mind you, neither one of us has problems with rules, in fact that is part of why we moved here. But when the rules don’t apply equally across the board it doesn’t sit well.

But………we love our home, and we have no intentions of moving. Not to say it hasn’t been a bit discouraging. Oh well, we are living in a strange and broken world. So much is upside down. This is no surprise. The fact is, God knows it too. From the dawn of creation He knew everything that would happen. But He counted the cost and figured it was worth it. He saw that everything he made was good. Perfect in every way. But it was also no surprise to Him when we went after the one thing He told us not to. The lie just sounded so good.

One time long ago, Pilate asked Jesus, “What is truth?” Pilate didn’t even know truth when He was looking right at him. Do we? Anyway, the good news is still the good news. We can have that happy ending since Jesus didn’t back down from restoring all things, and us as well. The redemption that is restoring all things is alive. Because of Jesus, we can wake with hope every single day.

I remember that old hymn we used to sing long ago. “Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe, sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow.” We never should have stopped singing those songs.

Until next time, be blessed and keep looking up.

First Sunday of Lent

Each evening the sun’s rays hit my Mom’s sheep and birdhouse at exactly the same spot. I never planned it that way, it just happened. Sometimes the cat poses along with the sheep putting himself squarely in the portrait. More than likely he’s only following the last bit of warmth before evening.

This morning I was leafing through my Dad’s Book of Common Prayer. He had written a note over part of the Eucharist seen below:

This made me smile. I know Dad was proud of his Scottish and English heritage. Since I did my DNA a few years back I’ve found that I’m 28% Scottish. I previously thought I was more English.

I read aloud and as I did, I recalled the soft murmur of voices in the chambers of my heart and memory. I remember the sounds in the old St. John’s church when it was on Lee Street in the middle of town. I heard the soft insulated thumps of prayer kneelers going up and back down. Dust motes floating through stained glass light; I heard us saying the words of the Eucharist all at once: 

We lift them to the Lord

It is right to give Him thanks and praise

So many years later it’s as if I’m there. And there are so many other church services down through my youth, Baptist, Methodist, Non-denominational, weekend Church retreats, you name it. My folks were denomination hoppers for a while and now I’m glad they were. Because the common denominator running through them all was tradition, and community. 

More than that, it was Jesus.

I remember faces, voices from the past, too many to count. I thought again how grateful I am to have this rich heritage of Churchgoing. Those memories hold you together in all those in between times in the desert of faith when you’re trying to recapture what you’ve lost. 

What I am sad about is that I am wondering if my generation will be the last to remember the old hymns. I can still chime in with the melodies even if some of the lyrics are lost. I can see the value in churches holding fast to keeping their traditions alive. In a world that is spinning out of control, it’s comforting to know you can attend church and parts of it at least, will still ring true. Still hold to tradition.

The fundamentalist in me misses altar calls. Remember those? The closing music starts up, and the Pastor stands at the front, invitation open. Hopeful hearts pray while eternity waits. Then one courageous individual stands and scoots across knees out of the row and into the aisle. The most dramatic and personal moment in the church for me was that moment. I was fourteen. I grabbed Mom and she went with me.

And the great miracle is that as Christians, we carry this living cathedral wherever we go. Held safely in the shelter of our hearts. A turn of the key, sealed for the day of redemption. As parents, the most invaluable gift we can give our kids is something, or most importantly someone bigger than themselves.

To deal with life’s blows you need this.

In closing, join me in prayer for our war weary tear-stained world. For you, for me, and the Ukrainian people and (no doubt, many Russian people) many of whom are not in favor of what is going on.  

God of the nations, whose sovereign rule brings justice and peace, have mercy on our broken and divided world. Shed abroad Your peace in the hearts of all and banish from them the spirit that makes for war, that all races and peoples may learn to live as members of one family and in obedience to Your law, through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen

Anglican Church, Diocese of Perth. 

A Resting Place

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“I need no other argument, I need no other plea, it is enough that Jesus died and that He died for me……” My Faith has found a resting place, Eliza E. Hewitt, 1891

There is something in the old Hymns that cuts right to the core of that matter the way the modern songs just can’t. It’s like a chord is struck deep inside that reaches across all boundaries to reach some eternal understanding. It’s like putting the needle of the phonograph back to the first groove. (Youngsters will have to look this up) Or how about a reset on the computer?

A snatch of a chorus will come back when I’m going about my business and it will stay with me throughout the day. Eternal truth. When chaos ensues around me and there is nothing I can do to stop it I am reminded that “it is well with my soul” because God’s got me.

What’s your particular storm today? Jesus still commands the wind and the waves. Not only the ones outside but the more troubling ones in the heart and soul. The ones we carry with us everywhere. And yet, the still small voice speaks in between the everyday business of tasks and life. While I was driving to work the other day, I was filled overflowing with the joy of the Spirit. For 3 minutes I was high.

In a perfect world that joy would have met with others who recognize it but as with most days, I entered the doors to my current place of business and my light was stifled by the bushels around me. No fault of theirs, it’s me that pulls back. I only hope by some miracle a little light shows through. Have mercy of me Jesus. I am so imperfect.

Help me get out of the way so that Your light will shine and spill onto others in my path. I guess that’s about the best prayer we can pray on any given day.

My faith has found a resting place, Not in device or creed; I trust the every living One, His wounds for me shall plead.

I need no other argument, I need no other plea, It is enough that Jesus died and that He died for me.

Enough for me that Jesus saves, This ends my fear and doubt; A sinful soul I come to Him, He’ll never cast me out.

I need no other argument, I need no other plea, It is enough that Jesus died and that He died for me.