La~Do~Mi

2010-06-06T05:52:00.000-07:00

Jesus took Uncle Mike home this morning at about 7:30.

He's gone! The spotless soul is gone,
Triumphant to his place above;
The prison walls are broken down
The angels speed his swift remove;
And shouting on their wings he flies;
And gains his rest in paradise.

Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna to the Lamb of God!

Glory, Glory let us sing! Grateful honors to our King!

Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna to the Lamb of God!

Saved by the merit of his Lord,
Glory and praise to Christ he gives;
He now enjoys the full reward,
The joys of heaven he now receives;
The life he lived while here below
Is proof that he's at rest, we know.

Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna to the Lamb of God!

Glory, Glory let us sing! Grateful honors to our King!

Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna to the Lamb of God!

you can hear it here: http://www.sacredchoralmusic.net/altarofpraise.html
(It's #12 on This Is My Father's World)

....my prayer.........

2010-05-19T21:58:00.000-07:00

Show pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive,
Let a repenting rebel live;
Are not thy mercies large and free?
May not a sinner trust in thee?

My crimes are great, but don’t surpass
The power and glory of the grace;
Great God! thy nature has no bound.
So let thy pardoning love be found.

O wash my soul from every sin,
And make my guilty conscience clean;
Here on my heart the burden lies,
And past offences pain my eyes.

My lips with shame my sins confess,
Against thy law, against thy grace;
Lord, should thy judgements grow severe,
I am condemned, but thou art clear.

Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,
I must pronounce thee just in death;
And if my soul were sent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.

Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,
Whose hope, still hovering round thy word,
Would light on some sweet promise there,
Some sure support against despair.

Gadsby #761 Watts

....live well

2010-05-12T07:38:00.000-07:00

1 ¶ Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,
2 looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.
3 Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.
4 ¶ In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.
5 And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons?
“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
nor be weary when reproved by him.
6 For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and chastises every son whom he receives.”
7 It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?
8 If you are left without discipline, in which all have participated, then you are illegitimate children and not sons.
9 Besides this, we have had earthly fathers who disciplined us and we respected them. Shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live?
10 For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness.
11 For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.
12 Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees,
13 and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed.
14 Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.
15 See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no “root of bitterness” springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled;
16 that no one is sexually immoral or unholy like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal.
17 For you know that afterward, when he desired to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no chance to repent, though he sought it with tears.

....from Job 22...........

2010-05-08T14:25:00.000-07:00

21 ¶ “Agree with God, and be at peace;
thereby good will come to you.
22 Receive instruction from his mouth,
and lay up his words in your heart.
23 If you return to the Almighty you will be built up;
if you remove injustice far from your tents,
24 if you lay gold in the dust,
and gold of Ophir among the stones of the torrent bed,
25 then the Almighty will be your gold
and your precious silver.
26 For then you will delight yourself in the Almighty
and lift up your face to God.
27 You will make your prayer to him, and he will hear you,
and you will pay your vows.

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

2008-04-15T15:56:00.000-07:00

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.....

2006-12-10T13:21:00.001-08:00

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...

2006-05-12T11:26:00.000-07:00

...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...

2006-05-03T14:27:00.000-07:00

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.....

2005-12-13T10:22:00.000-08:00

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........

2005-11-09T07:35:00.000-08:00

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.......

2005-10-29T09:07:00.000-07:00

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.

on our indebtedness........

2005-09-16T10:22:00.000-07:00

Thy mercy, my God, is the theme of my song,
The joy of my heart. and the boast of my tongue;
Thy free grace alone, from the first to the last,
Has won my affections, and bound my soul fast.

Thy mercy in Jesus exempts me from hell;
Its glories I'll sing, and its wonders I'll tell;
'Twas Jesus, my Friend, when he hung on the tree,
Who opened the channel of mercy for me.

Without Thy sweet mercy I could not live here;
Sin soon would reduce me to utter despair;
But, thro' Thy free goodness, my spirits revive,
And He that first made me still keeps me alive.

Thy mercy is more than a match for my heart,
Which wonders to feel its own hardness depart;
Dissolved by Thy goodness, I fall to the ground,
And weep to the praise of the mercy I’ve found.

The door of thy mercy stands open all day,
To the poor and the needy, who knock by the way;
No sinner shall ever be empty sent back,
Who comes seeking mercy for Jesus's sake.

Great Father of mercies, thy goodness I own,
And the covenant love of thy crucified Son;
All praise to the Spirit, whose whisper divine
Seals mercy, & pardon, & righteousness mine.

Gadsby #11 Stocker

on his love......

2005-08-17T05:24:00.000-07:00

An oldie and a goodie. It is a singular blessing that our devotion to the Lord is a fire kindled by him on that heart of flesh after the removal of that old heart of stone. I'm so thankful to be the tender of a fire that will not be quenched. Sweet dreams indeed!

My Jesus, I love thee, I know thou art mine;
For thee all the follies of sin I resign;
My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art thou;
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus ‘tis now.

I love thee because thou hast first lovéd me,
And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree;
I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow;
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus ‘tis now.

I’ll love thee in life, I will love thee in death,
And praise thee as long as thou lendest me breath;
And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus ‘tis now.

In mansions of glory and endless delight,
I’ll ever adore thee in heaven so bright;
And say with the glittering crown on my brow;
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus ‘tis now.

Featherstone – 1864

on brotherly love.........

2005-08-11T12:17:00.000-07:00

Oh, to be above our own ambition and pride and esteem others better than ourselves. Brethren, strive for it today!

How sweet, how heav’nly is the sight,
When those who love the Lord
In one another’s peace delight,
And so fulfil his word.

When each can feel his brother’s sigh,
And with him bear a part,
When sorrow flows from eye to eye,
And joy from heart to heart.

When free from envy, scorn and pride,
Our wishes all above,
Each can his brother’s failings hide,
And show a brother’s love.

When love in one delightful stream
Thru ev’ry bosom flows,
Then union sweet and dear esteem
In ev’ry action glows.

Love is the golden chain that binds
The happy souls above,
And he’s an heir of heav’n who finds
His bosom glow with love.

–Joseph Swain

on God's great mercy.........

2005-08-04T15:21:00.000-07:00

Just like in translation, oldest is not always best. I beg to put before you this new and very touching song. I'd love to hear your comments on it.

Mystery of Mercy

I am the woman at the well.
I am the harlot.
I am the scattered seed that fell along the path.
I am the son that ran away,
And I am the bitter son that stayed.

My God, my God why hast thou accepted me
When all my love was vinegar to a thirsty King?
My God, my God why hast thou accepted me
It's a mystery of mercy and the song, the song I sing

I am the angry man who came to stone the lover.
I am the woman there ashamed before the crowd.
I am the leper that gave thanks--
But I am the nine that never came.

My God, my God why hast thou accepted me;
When all my love was vinegar to a thirsty King?
My God, my God why hast thou accepted me?
It's a mystery of mercy and the song, the song I sing.

You made the seed that made the tree
That made the cross that saved me.
You gave me hope when there was none
You gave me your only Son.

My God,My God,Lord you are my God.
My God,My God,Lord you are...my God.

Caedmon's Call~~Back Home

on an answered prayer........

2005-07-30T17:24:00.000-07:00

I think Hart grasped the meaning of the lesson better than Wilkinson did........

A saint there was in days of old
(Though we but little of him hear)
In honour high, of whom is told
A short, but an effectual prayer.
This prayer, my brethren, let us view,
And try if we can pray so too.

He called on Israel's God, 'tis said;
Let us take notice first of that;
Had he to any other prayed,
To us it had not mattered what;
For all true Israelites adore
One God, Jehovah, and no more.

"O that thou wouldst me bless indeed,
And that thou wouldst enlarge my bound;
And let thy hand in every need
A guide and help be with me found;
That thou wouldst cause that evil be
no cause of pain and grief to me."

What is it to be blest indeed,
But to have all our sins forgiven;
To be from guilt and terror freed,
Redeemed from hell, and sealed for heaven;
To worship an incarnate God,
And know he saved us by his blood?

And next, to have our coast enlarged
Is, that our hearts extend their plan;
From bondage and from fear discharged,
And filled with love to God and man;
To cast off every narrow thought,
And use the freedom Christ has brought.

To use this liberty aright,
And not the grace of God abuse,
We always need his hand, his might,
Lest what he gives us we should lose;
Spiritual pride would soon creep in,
And turn his very grace to sin.

This prayer, so long ago preferred,
Is left on sacred record thus;
And this good prayer by God was heard,
And kindly handed down to us.
Thus Jabez prayed, for that's his name.
May all believers pray the same.

Gadsby #790 Hart

on his friendship.........

2005-07-29T09:37:00.000-07:00

Poor, weak and worthless though I am
I have a rich almighty friend;
Jesus, the Saviour, is His Name;
He freely loves, and without end.

He ransomed me from hell with blood,
And by His pow'r my foes controlled;
He found me wand'ring far from God,
And brought me to His chosen fold.

He cheers my heart, my want supplies,
And says that I shall shortly be,
Enthroned with Him above the skies;
O what a friend is Christ to me!

But ah! I my inmost spirit mourns,
And well my eyes with tears may swim,
To think of my perverse returns;
I've been a faithless friend to him.

Often my gracious Friend I grieve,
Neglect, distrust, and disobey,
And often Satan's lies believe,
Sooner than all my Friend can say.

He bids me always freely come,
And promises whate'er I ask:
But I am straitened, cold and dumb,
And count my privilege a task.

Before the world that hates his course,
My treach'rous heart has throbbed with shame;
Loth to forego the worlds applause,
I hardly dare avow his name.

Sure were not I most vile and base,
I could not thus my friend requite!
And were not he the God of grace,
He'd frown and spurn me from his sight.

Newton--1779 8s Olney Hymns Book 1 Hymn 30

on our great High Priest........

2005-07-27T08:35:00.000-07:00

This is the text Jamie asked about. It was written by Charitie Lees De Chenez in about 1863. Like many other old texts, it has been recently set to a new tune. If you want to put it to your own tune, you can figure out the meter by counting the syllables in each line. There is probably a metrical index of tunes in your favorite hymnal. This one is 8s--sometimes called long meter(LM). If you don't already know the current tune, you can sing it to the tune for Just As I Am or When I Survey. Look in your hymnal for others that will work. By the way, LMD (long meter double) tunes will work--you'll just use up two verses on one run of the tune. Play around with hymns and you'll begin to hear the words you've always sung......

Before the throne of God above
I have a strong, a 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.

When Satan tempts me to despair,
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look, and see him there
Who made an end of all my sin.

Because the sinless Savior died,
My sinful soul is counted free;
For God, the Just, is satisfied
To look on him and pardon me.

Behold him there! the risen Lamb!
My perfect, spotless Righteousness,
The great unchangeable I AM,
The King of glory and of grace!

One with himself, I cannot die;
My soul is purchased by his blood;
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ, my Savior and my God.

on my need.......

2005-07-18T08:32:00.000-07:00

Today is the birthdayof Isaac Watts~~1674-1748

2005-07-17T13:30:00.000-07:00

a word of explanation....

2005-07-17T12:29:00.000-07:00

Why La~Do~Mi ?

As you know, la-do-mi is a minor triad. Now minor music has gotten a bad wrap from music teachers over the years. Instead of taking the time to delve with their students into the feel and effect of minor music, they have given the short answer: Minor music sounds scary. In my own experience, being a pretty positive person, I took that to mean it was heavy, downbeat (as opposed to upbeat–pardon the pun), and not much use to a happy person.. (If you are one of that rare breed of teacher who doesn’t mind relating that things are actually quite complicated and will take a lifetime to understand, I applaud you.)

Not until adulthood did I understand how soothing and restful minor songs could be. It was about 18 years ago that I began to learn minor hymntunes that were not among the two in my church’s hymnal. What a blessing those tunes are! For, as it turns out, minor tunes are healing and soothing to a burdened soul.

If joy were music, it would be minor. Happiness is Major. Lite. Almost unattached. But joy takes in all things–-tremendous and wretched--and chooses to give back a smile. Joy hurts. It costs you.....but you’re none the worse for having paid. Matter of fact, you’re more real. More useful. Those minor hymns are a balm in Zion to relieve the pain of joy and renew your strength. Is your soul heavy? Learn a minor tune and sing it in the car. Loud.

When I was a child, my blog might have been do-mi-sol; but now I am old and I know the joy of those Everlasting Arms that support this sinful soul for whom Christ died.

Praise Him for minor music.

on God's tender care....

2005-07-16T06:34:00.000-07:00

Elijah's example declares,
Whatever distress may betide,
The saints may commit all their cares
To Him who will surely provide;
When rain long withheld from the earth
Occasioned a famine of bread,
The prophet, secured from the dearth,
By ravens was constantly fed.

More likely to rob than to feed,
Were ravens, which live upon prey;
But when the Lord's people have need,
His goodness will find out a way.
This instance to those may be strange
Who know not how faith can prevail;
But sooner all nature shall change,
Than one of God's promises fail.

How safe and how happy are they
Who on the good Shepherd rely;
He gives them out strength for their day,
Their wants he will surely supply.
He ravens and lions can tame!
All creatures obey his commands!
Then let us rejoice in his name,
And leave all our cares in his hands.

Gadsby #276 Newton

on our native sin........

2005-07-15T09:06:00.000-07:00

Innumerable foes
Attack the child of God;
He feels within the weight of sin,
A grievous, galling load.

Temptations, too, without,
Of various kinds, assault;
Sly snares beset his travelling feet,
And make him often halt.

From sinner and from saint
He meets with many a blow;
His own bad heart creates him smart,
Which only God can know.

But though the host of hell
Be neither weak nor small,
One mighty foe deals wondrous woe,
and hurts beyond them all.

‘Tis pride, accursed pride,
The spirit by God abhorred;
Do what we will, it haunts us still,
And keeps us from the Lord.

It blows its poisonous breath,
And bloats the soul with air;
The heart uplifts with God’s own gifts,
And makes e’en grace a snare.

Awake, nay, while we sleep,
In all we think or speak,
It puffs us glad, torments us sad;
Its hold we cannot break.

In other ills we find
The hand of heaven not slack;
Pride only knows to interpose,
And keep our comforts back.

‘Tis hurtful when perceived;
When not perceived, ‘tis worse;
Unseen or seen, it dwells within,
And works by fraud or force.

Against its influence pray,
It mingles with the prayer;
Against it preach, it prompts the speech;
Be silent, still ‘tis there.

In every outward act,
In every thought within,
The heart it draws to seek applause,
And mixes all with sin.

Thou meek and lowly Lamb,
This haughty tyrant kill,
That wounded thee, though thou wast free,
And grieves thy Spirit still.

Our condescending God,
To whom else shall we go?
Remove our pride, whate’er betide,
And lay and keep us low.