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A thunderstorm had left our area two nights ago, but a few minutes later, Will was watching out the window and witnessed a large tree coming down towards our house. I captured the aftermath here. (Initially I thought it was just a branch, not the whole tree!) The rest of the story follows the video.
As you can hear in my capturing of the moment, I was concerned about how we would clean up the mess and how much it would cost. I even grumbled as this is the THIRD tree incident since we have lived here. (I won’t get into the Night of Falling Trees back when we lived in South Carolina. Suffice it to say that an ice storm caused trees all over our wooded property to crash from the weight of the branches as we sat in the dark without electricity. But that’s another story.)
Our family brought the situation up in prayer that night, and then Tom went to see the neighbor to discuss what to do. The tree was right at the border of the property line, and we weren’t sure whose tree it actually was. Not one but two neighbors and their young adult sons came out to help both that night and the next day. They got out their saws, cleared the branches, and one of the neighbor’s daughters knew a man with a truck who would take the wood. It’s almost gone now, just a bit left to be picked up tomorrow! How wonderful to have kind neighbors like this.
I share this to encourage those who sometimes feel small in faith and discouraged. I think God allows these things in our lives just to show His provision in our need. The lesson from our fallen tree is to stop with the grumbling and pray. Whining and worrying does no good. Prayer is the voice of faith, and God has an answer.
Late May morning.
Sunshine splashing across my kitchen floor.
Barefoot little girl in a sundress.
Aroma of coffee brewing.
Drone of a lawn mower through the open window.
Wading pool water warming in the sun for later fun.
Birds in riotous chorus.
Music of Bach from the living room piano.
Blessings of normalcy and peace.
Gratitude for all those in the Armed Forces who gave their lives for freedom and for those who continually serve that we may have mornings like this one.
Tom and his organist friend known as Quasi light up the night with Emperor’s Fanfare by Antonio Soler. This one will blow your hair back if the volume is turned up. (Audio begins at 14 seconds in.) This sound is why they call the organ the King of Instruments and the trumpet, the Instrument of Kings. You can almost see the Emperor and his train trailing down the aisle…
P.S. To musical purists, I know, I know, you don’t have to tell me that the piece was originally a delicate little Baroque thing until E. Power Biggs got hold of it.
A beautiful, impeccably kept white photo album in our possession records not only my Mother-in-law’s wedding in 1954, but captures a slice of life in old Milwaukee when the engines of manufacturing were humming away night and day.
It was a late October evening in when Tom’s parents were married in a little neighborhood Lutheran church their families belonged to. Back then you didn’t go into debt for a big, show-off wedding with all the glitz and glam a credit card or two or three could purchase. Those years, if your father didn’t pay for a big wedding, you saved up until you could pay for it up front.
Milwaukee back then was a manufacturing and brewery town and countless numbers made their modest livings at the various factories and plants around the vibrant, largely German town. The German planners of Milwaukee made the city streets in a sensible North/South grid with a few angle streets. They threw in a host of beautiful neighborhood parks with flowers lining the many boulevards throughout the city. Mile after mile of affordable bungalows and duplexes lined the streets where hardworking men came home to their families each night. On Friday nights, the largely Catholic and Lutheran town featured fish fries at hole in the wall places all over. Fish fries still are a Milwaukee specialty on Friday nights. On Sundays, delis and grocery stores across the area still sell hot ham and rolls, another Milwaukee specialty thanks to the German and Polish influence.
These beautiful photographs are only a few of those taken the night of Jenny and Bill’s wedding. (Our son William is named for his grandfather.) Somehow the black and white gives a special romance to the photos, a slice of life in good old Milwaukee on a late October evening long ago.
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How lovely is your dwelling place, O LORD of hosts! My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the LORD; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your altars, O LORD of hosts, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise! Selah Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion. As they go through the Valley of Baca they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools. They go from strength to strength; each one appears before God in Zion. O LORD God of hosts, hear my prayer; give ear, O God of Jacob! Selah Behold our shield, O God; look on the face of your anointed! For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. For the LORD God is a sun and shield; the LORD bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly. O LORD of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you!
~ Psalm 84
Here is the setting of this Psalm composed by Johannes Brahms. How Lovely Are Thy Dwellings Fair.
At the end of Will’s organ lessons, he plays some hymns just for me. This afternoon he played a stanza of the powerful hymn, Christ Jesus Lay in Death’s Strong Bands.
It was a strange and dreadful strife
when life and death contended;
the victory remained with life,
the reign of death was ended;
stripped of power, no more it reigns,
an empty form alone remains;
death’s sting is lost for ever!
Alleluia!
Read the entire text of the Reformation era hymn here. It’s muscular music for a powerful truth as found in the words of the hymn.
I had been looking for a long time on Craigslist for a used and cheap playhouse. New ones are over $200 so that’s impossible. But all the used playhouses were still around $100 even though they were well worn, so I decided to shelve the idea.
My sister and I had a refrigerator box for a playhouse at my grandma’s house once, and loving to play house, I was always intrigued with the idea of having my own little house in which to pretend.
Well, yesterday was the beginning of the neighborhood rummage sale that lasts until tomorrow. I decided to make the rounds to look for next winter’s clothing items. Rummages are great for finding kids’ clothes.
So I packed up Emily and the little one I sit for, and we headed out. The very first place I stopped, I noticed a playhouse back by the garage. At first I thought it wasn’t part of the rummage sale, but when I got closer, I saw an orange sticker. It was in great shape, and I couldn’t believe the sticker, thinking there had been a mistake. I went to the man in charge and asked his price. “Well,” he said, “it says $30, but I’ll give it to you for $25.”
What riches! Not only was it a beautiful little playhouse for Emily, it hadn’t hardly cost me anything! I was tickled pink. But a problem developed in that there was no way to get it home. The man told me he figured only a pick-up truck would work. That was a problem in that nobody we know drives a pick-up. Home Depot rents them on an hourly basis, but that’s $20.
Well, overnight I mulled it over, but by morning, I was no closer to getting that playhouse up the big hill to our house. By late morning, I was frustrated, so I said a prayer, apologizing to the Lord for mentioning something so trivial. Then I decided to mention my need to friends on Facebook. A good friend and worship pastor of a church in the area saw my status about my dilemma. He messaged and said, “I can be there in 30.” He had a small pick-up. I was so glad. Sure enough, he was at our door and followed my van to the house where Emmy’s cottage waited. He lifted the heavy thing into his truck, and we drove back up the hill to my house for delivery.
Emmy was dancing with excitement at this unexpected development. She spent the afternoon bringing out her toy dishes, her doll stroller, and other necessities. She even parked her Cozy Coupe by the door. We put a small pot of miniature roses I had from Mother’s Day in front of her cottage. (Her Grandma Schlueter always had red geraniums out and the best looking yard on the block, so I thought of her when I put the pot of roses under Emmy’s window.)
I want to make a small note here. In a world where nuclear war with Iran threatens, the economy is on the brink of collapse worldwide and any other number of horrors abound, it may seem silly to even suggest that God would care about a child’s playhouse. But deep in my heart after I bought the playhouse, I knew that God had given this little blessing. And he used a kind man who was humble enough to care about our small daughter and bring it home for her today. I’m sure that that our busy friend David had many other things he could have done, but he showed Christian love to us. God is great enough to care even about small things in our lives. After all, it was Jesus who blessed the children and did not push them away. God’s kindness never ceases to amaze me.
Here’s Emmy in her little white cottage today.
“There is no greater happiness for a man than approaching a door at the end of a day knowing someone on the other side of that door is waiting for the sound of his footsteps.” ~ Ronald Reagan, in a letter to his son, Michael, before his marriage.
The entire letter Ronald Reagan wrote can be read here..
I was reading an old book this morning, published in 1950. My friend Sherry mailed it to me several years ago along with several other Old Path books of spiritual richness. I want to share these paragraphs with you today.
“In my early life I entered into a partnership with a friend in the wholesale ice businessAs time passed on we met with disappointments. For two seasons in succession our ice was swept away by winter freshets. Things had come to a serious pass. It seemed very necessary that we should have ice in the winter of which I now speak. The weather became very cold. The ice formed and grew thicker and thicker, until it was fit to gather. I remember the joy that came into our hearts one afternoon when there came an order for thousands of tons of ice which would lift us entirely out from our financial stress. Not long before God had let me see the truth of committal. He showed me that it was His will that I should commit my business to Him and trust Him with it absolutely. As best I knew how I had done so. I never dreamed what testing was coming.
And so I lay down that Saturday night in quietness. But, at midnight there came an ominous sound – that of rain. By morning it was pouring in torrents. I looked out upon the river from my home upon the village hillside. Yellow streaks of water were creeping over the ice. I knew what that meant. The water was at flood stage. That condition had swept away our ice twice before. By noon the storm was raging in all its violence. By afternoon I had come into a great spiritual crisis in my life.
That might seem strange – to come into a spiritual crisis over a seemingly trivial matter. But I have learned this: a matter may be seemingly trivial, but the crisis that turns upon a small matter may be a profound and far-reaching one in our lives. And so it was with me. For by mid-afternoon that day I had come face to face with the tremendous fact that down deep in my heart was a spirit of rebellion against God. And that rebelliousness seemed to develop in a suggestion to my heart like this:
“You gave all to God. You say you are going to trust God with your business. This the way He requites you. Your business will be swept away, and tomorrow you will come into a place of desperate financial stress.” And I found my heart growing bitter at the thought that God should take away my business when I wanted it only for legitimate purposes.
Then another voice seemed to speak: “My child, did you mean it when you said you would trust Me? Can you not trust Me in the dark as well as in the light? Would I do anything, or suffer anything to come into your life which will not work out good for you?” And then came that other voice: “But it is hard. Why should not God spare your ice? Why should He take your business when it is clean and honest and you want to use it aright?” It was a very plausible sort of voice, and for the moment I did not detect the serpent hiss that was in it – in that word, “Why.”
Still back and forth with ever-increasing intensity, waged one of the greatest spiritual battles of my life. At the end of two hours, by the grace of God, I was able to cry out, “Take the business; take the ice; take everything; only give me the supreme blessing of an absolutely submitted will to Thee.” And then came peace.
The storm was still beating upon the earth and upon my ice. But it did not seem to make any difference whether it rained or ceased. Then and there I discovered that the secret of anxious care is not in surroundings, but in the failure of allowing life and will to be wholly given up to Him amid all circumstances and surroundings.
That night I lay down to rest in perfect peace, but with the rain pouring torrents upon my field of ice, and with every prospect that my business would lie in wreck the next morning. But it did not. By midnight there came another sound that of wind. By morning the bitterest blizzard of the year was upon us. By evening the mercury had fallen to the zero point. And in a few days we were harvesting the finest ice we ever had. God did not want my ice. But He did want my yielded will, and my absolute trust in Him, and when that was settled, He gave back the ice; He blessed the business; and He led me on and out, until He guided me from it entirely, into the place He had for me from the beginning – that of a teacher of His Word.”
~ James McConkey, as quoted in Crowded to Christ, by L.E. Maxwell
Thought for Today: Stand still and see God’s Salvation
Despair whispers, “Lie down and die; give it all up.” Cowardice says, “Retreat; go back to the worldling’s way of action; you cannot play the Christian’s part; it is too difficult. Relinquish your principles.” Precipitancy cries, “Do something; stir yourself; to stand still and wait is sheer idleness.” Presumption boasts, “If the sea be before you, march into it, and expect a miracle.” But Faith listens neither to Presumption nor to Despair nor to Cowardice nor to Precipitancy, but it hears God say, “Stand still,” and immovable as a rock it stands.
~ C.H. Spurgeon
If you have a chance to buy a used copy of Crowded to Christ, take it. I only saw two available on Amazon used, but they were not cheap. The book is real gold, especially for those going through very difficult, trying and bewildering times. When we are “crowded to Christ”, real faith is the only choice.
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