......wow! It's been a long time.

Now that I figured out how to log back in----I'll have to think of something to say.

Check back tomorrow! Or leave me an idea today!

sns

An Evening in December.....

This will, no doubt, appear on blogs more important than this one---but you can say with confidence that you read it here first! .....and it only happened last night.

(If you'd like to read more about double dactyls, look here.)





Lippity Clippity
wannabe architect
dashed out to Lubbock his
craft to unfurl.
Whilst apprehending a
great deal of knowledge he
coincidentally
got him a girl.

Greekamus Latinus
Jenny, west Texas gal,
reading her ancients and
drinking her milk,
liked watching movies and
going to baseball games
homogeneity--
two of one ilk.

Whippety Nippety
on this December night
Eric knelt down and
the rest you can guess--
plighted his troth to her,
proffered a gem to wear--
anticipatiously
Jenny said, "Yes!"

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming...

...to bring you my thoughts on a post titled "The Shaping of the Things to Come" from Redeemed, Reformed & Relevant.

The church could be divided into two groups on this type issue–the outwards and the inwards. One may seem more spiritual to you at first, but hang on to your hat. Some folks need everything to be orderly and beautiful around them and cannot concentrate or even breathe deeply unless they are. Others can find peace even in spite of their surroundings. God created both kinds of people and he created them to exist together in harmony in the church. Each must give way to the other because God is honored by both; and because trappings, or no trappings is not even the point.

One statement here can be ratified by both types: "Everything in the service needs to preach." The Scripture tells us that the prayers of the saints are like incense–whenever we smell a candle that will come to mind. The light of a candle reminds us that we are to be lights in a dark world. I guess a musty smelling church building might remind us to throw open the windows of our soul and let heavenly breezes blow in.

Christ was completely human. Surely, as a man, he took pleasure in good things that touched his senses. He made better wine than the father of the bride. He appreciated being anointed with costly perfume. He washed his disciples’ feet. He showed us that the perfect man cared about pleasant physical parts of life.

The principles seem to be these:

• Think about everything you do. Don’t do anything because that’s the way it’s done. Make decisions about all of life based on your relationship with Christ and never see anything as unattached to that union.
• Love the brethren. Be ready with your reason for everything you do or suggest, but be more ready to yield to your brother for whom Christ died. Trappings, just like meat sacrificed to idols, are not the issue really–just the proving ground.
• Give your brother the freedom to express his delight in God with his whole soul and personality. Some things you may want to emulate–others you may want to forget.

One of the greatest gifts God has given us as members of his body is the dynamic resonance of glory that reflects and flashes from one believer to another. (That’s why we should never forsake our own assembling together.) Like Moses, we couldn’t bear looking on it full in the face–yet; but these foretastes are his gift, within the bounds of our senses, to make us thirst for heaven.

If my brother, for whom Christ died, needs candles to help him toward God; light ‘em up. I will pray that my sneezing will not distract him. And he, in turn, will consider that true worship of God takes place in many places with far less freedom--and no candles. Yes, everything must preach; but everything--especially believers--must preach Christ.

on his kind comfort...

If you know this oldie-but-goodie, sing along...


And in these days of confused situations
And in these nights of a restless remorse
When the heart and the soul of a nation
Lay wounded and cold as a corpse
From the grave of the innocent Adam
Comes a song bringing joy to the sad
All your cries have been heard and the ransom
Has been paid up in full, be ye glad

Oh be ye glad, oh, be ye glad
Every debt that you ever had
Has been paid up in full by the grace of the Lord
Be ye glad, be ye glad, be ye glad

From the dungeon a rumor is stirring
We have heard it again and again
But this time the cell keys are turning
And outside there are faces of friends
And though your body lay weary from wasting
And your eyes show the sorrow they've had
The love that your heart is now tasting
Has opened the gates, be ye glad

Oh be ye glad, oh, be ye glad
Every debt that you ever had
Has been paid up in full by the grace of the Lord
Be ye glad, be ye glad, be ye glad

So be like lights on the rim of the water
Giving hope in a storm sea of night
Be a refuge amidst the slaughter
For these fugitives in their flight
For you are timeless and part of a puzzle
And you are winsome and young as a lad
And there is no disease or no struggle
That can pull you from God, be ye glad

Oh be ye glad, oh, be ye glad
Every debt that you ever had
Has been paid up in full by the grace of the Lord
Be ye glad, be ye glad, be ye glad

Michael K. Blanchard, 1980

on his gracious gift of music.....

My life flows on in endless song
Above earth’s lamentation.
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation.
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing.
It finds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?

What though my joys and comforts die,
The Lord my Savior liveth!
What though the darkness gather round,
Songs in the night He giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,
How can I keep from singing?

I lift mine eyes; the cloud grows thin.
I see the blue above it.
And day by day this pathway smoothes
Since first I learned to love it.
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing.
All things are mine since I am His—
How can I keep from singing?

Robert Lowry -- 1826-1899

on his kind providence........

Not from the dust affliction grows,
Nor troubles rise by chance;
Yet we are born to cares and woes--
A sad inheritance!

As sparks break out from burning coals,
And still are upwards borne,
So grief is rooted in our souls,
And man grows up to mourn.

Yet with my God I leave my cause
And trust his promised grace;
He rules me by his well-known laws
Of love and righteousness.

Not all the pains that e'er I bore
Shall spoil my future peace;
For death and hell can do no more
Than what my Father please.

Gadsby #465 Watts

on his blessed provision.......

From ev'ry stormy wind that blows
From ev'ry swelling tide of woes
There is a calm, a sure retreat--
'Tis found beneath the mercy-seat.

There is a place where Jesus sheds
The oil of gladness on our heads
A place of all on earth most sweet
It is the blood-bought mercy-seat.

There is a scene where spirits blend
Where friend holds fellowship with friend
Though sundered far by faith they meet
Around one common mercy-seat.

Ah! whither could we flee for aid,
When tempted, desolate, dismayed?
Or how the hosts of hell defeat
Had suff'ring saints no mercy-seat?

There, there on eagles' wings we soar,
And sin and guilt seem there no more;
And heav'n comes down our souls to greet
And glory crowns the mercy-seat.

O let my hand forget her skill
My tongue be silent cold, and still
This bounding heart forget to beat,
If I forget the mercy-seat.