Will Pulls Out the Stops For Thanksgiving

Will is home from college and this morning, he recorded a joyful pipe organ version of this Thanksgiving hymn. Come, Ye Thankful People, Come!

 

Come, ye thankful people, come,
raise the song of harvest home;
all is safely gathered in,
ere the winter storms begin.
God our Maker doth provide
for our wants to be supplied;
come to God’s own temple, come,
raise the song of harvest home!

 

come-ye-thankful-title

A Turkey Full of Blessings

turkeyofthanksEmmy came home from school with a poster board with a turkey on it. She is supposed to decorate the turkey with all the things she is thankful for. It’s sitting on our dining room table, and tonight we’re going to work on the project together.

My daughter-in-law, Laura, is helping me with Thanksgiving dinner this year, and today I went shopping for the things I’m going to make. I was standing in the aisle deliberating over an item when I was overwhelmed with a sense of thankfulness for just being in the store, able to buy things for our family, let alone a nice dinner like we’re planning. It’s a blessed thing to be able to have anything with which to feed our families, isn’t it?

As important as material things are, life without friends and loved ones would be a sad thing. Our gratitude this year centers around the people in our lives who are a daily reminder of our deepest blessings. They give us hope and joy, as we hope we give them.

My son wrote this the other day, and I thought it was simple, yet profound.

“True heroism is found in small but consistent deeds of love to those closest to you. God’s view of things is often the exact opposite of our own. While we fawn over the big deeds, God is paying attention to the ones we deem insignificant. It is those “small things” that will be revealed before the throne of judgement. Above all, love is the ingredient that gives worth to all our deeds, big or little. Without love, it is so much straw that will be consumed.” ~ Sam

(Son Samuel and grandson, Max and my little grandson, Peter with his frog this summer.)

 

SamandMax
Froggy

Thoughts on Reconciliation

Last July, I recorded a few simple videos of my thoughts on Christians, love and reconciliation for my Facebook friends.  Our children need to see, we all  as Christians need to see the reality of Christ. The reality of Christ, at bottom, is not about being a social conservative, an opponent of this or a supporter of that, it’s about manifesting the traits of the One we claim to possess. I need to see this in my own experience. The God we proclaim can’t heal broken relationships? We expect our kids to believe God spoke the universe into existence out of nothing, yet He cannot repair broken families or relationships between fellow professing believers? I think we expect a bit much of others to believe in this invisible God when we as Christians live in abject brokenness, ugliness and dishonesty. Just sharing my heart here in this short video from last summer. (I’m sorry the video was a bit shaky, it was my phone in a Walmart parking lot!)

https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=670005949754368&l=2155628850460147508

Quote of the Day

“…your God is a trinity. There are three necessary prayers and they have three words each. They are these, ‘Lord, have mercy. Thee I adore. Into Thy hands.’ Not difficult to remember. If in times of distress you hold to these, you will do well.”
― Elizabeth Goudge, The Scent of Water

 

leaves

Bleak House – A Repost

This post was originally published in July of 2011. It is worth reposting.

 

When the wind blows, the chimes hanging from a tree branch make their music, but nobody is there to hear it.

It’s a house destroyed. Not just the building, but the people who once lived there.

Whatever love was there died, and with it, an entire family.

The house didn’t fall apart over night. It took a long time for the real damage to become evident. No maintenance. No caution and care about keeping things up. Then roof tiles began to blow off, the rain began coming in, and the ceilings collapsed. The wood rotted, the drywall fell off the studs in soggy chunks. No safety and no protection from the elements were left.

There is a piano in the corner that used to make music. It is covered in rotted drywall now. Grandchildren used to like to sit and play it. In the sound of the wind blowing through the broken windows, you sometimes can hear an echo of their laughter as they used to play in the grass and ride their bikes in the driveway and climb the trees. Those voices are long gone.

This is a house that sin killed. Hypocrisy. Lies. Selfishness. Pride. It gradually poisoned everyone who lived here. One little bit at a time.

Innocence died. Tenderness died. Forgiveness died. Faith died. All that’s left are ruins. Others saw the destruction and wondered. How could…? No. There must be some mistake.

Nobody cared enough to help. Nobody could help in the end. Pride was more powerful than anything. Malice was more powerful than anything. Even more powerful than the God they claimed to serve and believe in. They didn’t say that. They just lived it.

So the wind chimes blow aimlessly in the wind. Nobody ever hears them anymore.