This morning I finished the last page of my planner, my oh-so-valuable Things To Do notebook. I typically use one each year, glance through it when it’s full, then throw it away. You probably have something similar – the daily lists and reminders, temporary information that’s important for a time, and then it’s not.
As I was scanning through my notebook, I came upon the schedules for giving Lorazepam and Morphine to Grandpa, the timing for his breathing treatments, the list of Hospice workers, names of the amazing people who came in for the night shift and short statements about his general condition. Suddenly my mind and emotions were swept back to those last few weeks of Grandpa’s life.
It’s been almost a year since he passed and six months since we’ve moved back to Michigan, but immediately and unexpectedly today I relived all the grief and heartache of walking toward the horizon of the end of his life on this earth. It was a sacred time a year ago, yet perplexing in how to give him comfort as well as those who gathered around to help. I was reminded anew about how important it is for us to have a community of support, to give encouragement and do what we cannot do. I’m reminded of the saying
It takes a village to raise a child,
but I think I can complement it by saying
It takes a village to escort a life to the end.
I know my statement doesn’t have quite the ring as the original, but it’s the best I can come up with – plus it’s true.
I used to feel young compared to Grandpa and Grandma (I looked quite spry in comparison) but now that I am around all of you, my daughters and your beautiful families, I don’t quite feel that way anymore and I continually marvel at all your energy and youth. But it’s ok, God has given each of us a time to begin life on this earth, a time to carry on and a time to leave.
I also came upon a beautiful song today, capturing all the emotions I was feeling. So I listened and wept over all the memories – the hard, the beautitful, and a combination of all the others. The chorus verbalized everything I was feeling:
It’s okay to cry It’s okay to fall apart You don’t have to try To be strong when you are not And it may take sometime to make sense of all your thoughts But don’t ever fight your tears ‘Cause there is freedom in every drop Sometimes the only way to heal a broken heart is when we fall apart
It’s okay to cry, fall apart, and be weak. In fact, maybe that’s how we can live life to the fullest. Freedom comes in our honesty to admit we hurt, to admit we miss those who have gone, and admit we need help. After all, it takes a village…
A few years ago I watched the movie Les Miserables – Les Miz for short. It’s a fabulous movie based on the novel by Victor Hugo, first published in 1862. The music in the film is marvelous and moving, emotional and memorable. The story of Les Miz is based on the character Jean Valjean, known as Prisoner #24601, recently released from 19 years in prison and desiring to find a life of freedom but not knowing how.
It’s a long and complicated story, but in the movie there is a lovely song On My Own sung by one of the minor characters, Eponine. It is a haunting, heartbreaking song of a woman having to live life on her own. I learned it quite well because a piano student of mine wanted to sing and play it and asked for my help. So, I immersed myself in the song, singing and playing it so I could teach it well to my student. But an interesting shift took place as I sang it over and over.
Originally, the song is sung by Eponine because the man she loves is only in her dreams, yet she longs for him to be a reality – which never happens. She sings the song on a deserted street in the rain, devastated yet hoping for something more than what she has experienced. The more I sang it I started believing that this was my life, that I was on my own. Slowly, the words I sang became those I felt about God during that time in my life. I had been hurt and rejected by others, my health was failing and I truly felt as if God had abandoned me. So I sang On My Own more and more, often with fervor, believing that in real life I was on my own. God had become a figment of my imagination, a nice awareness but simply a pretend idea.
The words of On My Own go like this:
On my own, pretending he’s beside me
All alone, I walk with him till morning…
And I know, it’s only in my mind
That I’m talking to myself and not to him,
And although I know that he is blind,
Still I say there’s a way for us.
I love him, but every day I’m learning
All my life I’ve only been pretending
Without me his world will go on turning
A world that’s full of happiness that I have never known
I love him…..
But only on my own.
It’s a sad song to sing about a boyfriend or husband you wish were yours, but it’s even a sadder song when you’re singing it about God. God, the one we’re told who has created us, who loves us and desires the best for us. And yet, sometimes it feels like he’s gone, vanished, given up on us – and we come to believe we are totally on our own. I made the mistake of singing that song over and over again, becoming more mournful every time, and actually believing that I had no choice but to live life on my own. I had to look out for me because no one else was going to do it, and so I came to the conclusion that this was my life for a time. Too long of a time.
The melody was so beautiful, the orchestration exquisite, and the musicality itself continued to draw me in. How easy it is to let a 3-minute song become your entire belief system. Philosophers can write books of many wise words, but a winsome melancholy popular song often becomes the mindset of the masses who sing it.
Feelings are strong, they can take us up to the moon at times but also into the depths of despair. It was into the depths of despair that I went. I continued to sing All Alone and for me it became a reality.
So where can we anchor our minds and hearts when these thoughts consume our every waking moment?
Thankfully, a friend gently reminded me that my feelings were only feelings, they were not the truth. I am not alone, I was never alone, and I will never be alone. How do I know that? Simply because the Bible tells me so. The Bible has been an anchor for millions of people through thousands of years. My friend reminded me all the times in the past when Jesus showed his love for me.
So I rewrote the words:
I’m never alone,
The Spirit lives inside me.
Every day, my Lord he walks beside me.
Without out Him, my life would be disaster
Remembering His faithfulness that I have always known…
I love Him, I’m never on my own.
The mindset of the original On My Own is found often in the Psalms. King David and others who wrote the Psalms never denied their feelings, but wrote exactly what they felt, even though it wasn’t true. God is never afraid of our honest cries and wailings. But he loves to have them directed toward Him so He can come and give comfort.
They [the Psalms] are remarkable for recording with brutal honesty the cries of those who are sick and suffering, says Tim Keller. Yet, the hopelessness and despair is only for a season. When we turn our eyes to God and remember, always remember his faithfulness to us and to others in the myriad stories in the Bible, then we can wait patiently and sing songs of hope instead of anguish and gloom.
About a year ago in December I remember reading incredibly optimistic articles about the upcoming year of 2020 being a wonderful year of being able to see clearly. Ideal vision, 20/20 vision, the ability to see and do what we need to do – it was to be the exceptional year of progress and possibility. Unemployment was low, the economy was good. And then came the corona virus…
Now we are near the end of 2020, a year no one could have ever predicted and we’re weary. At times it seems like we‘re living out the movie Groundhog, every day is a bit too much like the day before.
So what is there to rejoice about?
The world in which Jesus was born was not so very different. The Roman Empire in the first century was cruel and harsh – high taxes, oppression from the government, police brutality, a huge chasm between the ruling elite and the poor. It was a time when all the Jews were hoping and waiting for the Messiah to come, just as they had been waiting for hundreds of years.
The Jews felt lost and forgotten.
Abandoned and overlooked.
And then, when they were least expecting it, He came. Not as a warrior on a mighty white steed armed with a sword and ready to take out the Roman government, which was what most people were expecting. They were hoping for release from the unfair rule of the current government and seeing a triumphant procession led by the Messiah to release them from bondage.
Instead, Jesus was born of a young teenage mother and protected by her brave and courageous husband. Mary and Joseph were most likely afraid, outcasts of society and tired. Jesus, the one who was from before creation, humbled himself to be nestled in the darkness of a virgin’s womb, becoming handicapped and encased in a human body, living within time constraints when he was the Eternal One. And why?
He was called Emmanuel – God with us.
He saw that we could not save ourselves. Lord knows we have all tried. Tried to follow all the rules, do the right thing, be good enough, strong enough, acceptable enough. But the chasm between us and a Holy Perfect God is too vast. There’s no way on earth that we can get rid of the guilt, shame and unworthiness that we have all felt.
So Jesus came to be the bridge between God and us. Simple as that. When we say yes to Jesus, he comes to take away our guilt and shame and gives us a new heart – a heart of flesh instead of our original heart of stone. He gives us new life, the ability to love and forgive, show compassion and mercy even to those who don’t deserve it. Especially to those who don’t deserve it.
The YouVersion Bible App has noticed that the most bookmarked, sought after and read verse in Scripture in this year 2020 is Isaiah 41:10,
So do not fear, for I am with you;
Do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Do not fear, which is a phrase repeated over 300 times in the Bible is certainly what we need in our time, just as the people in Isaiah’s time needed to hear it. Just as Mary and Joseph needed to hear it, and exactly what we need to hear today when fear has become epidemic to our world.
I am with you, Emmanuel, God with us. True hope amid chaos. Stability. The Eternal One with us.
Now we can breathe, and rejoice. Jesus has not left us alone, but has promised that forever He will be our strength and help. He doesn’t fix things as we think they need fixing, yet has promised to walk with us through every hard thing.
We are a weary world and we can still rejoice because we have not been left alone.
We never have to be beside ourselves with fears
when God is beside us with favor
Ask Mary
Favor isn’t grace for an easy trajectory,
but enough grace for a hard task.
Ask Mary
Favor with God doesn’t mean receiving more grace than others
But receiving enough grace to live sacrificially for others.
Ann Voskamp
So maybe 2020 has been a year of clear vision. It has caused many of us to search for a solid foundation, for Someone who will never change even though a tiny little virus has certainly changed life as we know it. It is a year that has brought us to our knees. And I think on our knees is a good place to be…Humble, looking for Him our creator who came as a child so he could experience life as we have, in a human body so fragile that his own creation killed Him.
He loves us like none other. He’s our only safe space.
I used to be embarrassed by the Old Testament. With all the traumatic events mentioned during those thousands of years – murder, sexual exploitation, military invasions, natural disasters, political scandals, family dysfunction – I used to think it was all a bit too racy to be included in a holy book. I remember pondering,
If I were God and wanted people to love and believe in me, I would have sanitized those stories, made them a bit more neat and tidy, kept out the ugliest sections…
Good thing I’m not God…
Kim Baar
The older I get and the more time I spend reading the Old Testament, the more I’m amazed at how comforting it is to read about people who have lived through dreadful life stories and have come through with even greater trust in their Creator.
Take Abraham and the promise God gave him when he was 75 years old – that he would become the father of many nations. It finally happened when he was 100 – impatiently waiting for a promise that took 25 years to fulfill. In the meantime, there was strife in the household as Abraham and his barren wife Sarah tried to help God out by having Abraham sleep with her maidservant and birth a child using their own wisdom. Which, by the way, made a big mess out of the original plan. Yet, as God always does, he brings good out of evil and his promises do come to pass – not a moment too soon or too late.
And then there’s Moses. When God chose him to deliver His people from slavery in Egypt, he gave God every possible reason why he shouldn’t be the one. He was not an orator, he was scared, nervous and tried to convince God to choose someone else. Moses had murdered an Egyptian 40 years earlier and had extreme fear and trembling, unconvinced he was the one to lead a million people cross-country through the desert. Yet, he reluctantly agreed. God showed up when He said he would, working through Moses with his brother Aaron as his mouthpiece, and the rest is 40 years of desert history.
Remember Naomi, the widow who lost not only her husband but both sons to death within about ten years? She asked others to call her Mara, meaning bitter, instead of Naomi, which means pleasant:
The Strong one has dealt me a bitter blow. I left here [Bethlehem] full of life and God has brought me back with nothing but the clothes on my back. Why would you call me Naomi? God certainly doesn’t. The Strong One ruined me. Ruth 1:20
She was acrimonious toward God, resentful, and near hopeless. Amazing to me, God allowed those words of hers to be recorded for millions of others to read. Even though she had given up on God, He had not given up on her and had planned a good ending for the tragic story she was living. When she returned to her home in Bethlehem along with her daughter-in-law Ruth, God provided a husband for Ruth, who in turn gave birth to a son – Naomi’s grandson – who ended up becoming an ancestor of King David and was named in the genealogy of Jesus Christ.
God loved Naomi back to life again. She was no longer bitter and empty, but became full and satisfied. It took years of heartache, honesty, pain and a long obedience in the same direction, but she was healed of her grief.
God isn’t afraid of letting it be known publicly that his people sometimes don’t trust him. He’s not ashamed that he is perceived as harsh, unfair and demanding. He lets us speak our emotions, even though they may not be the truth about who he is. Yet he humbly conceals Himself as he works all things together for good – to those who love him. As CS Lewis writes:
We may ignore but we can in no way evade the presence of God.
The world is crowded with him.
He walks everywhere incognito.
My friend Kara’s favorite story in the OT is about Samson. Samson the womanizer, the royal screw-up, the proud and arrogant man who disobeyed God and lived a haughty and egotistical life. Yet in the end he was humbled and God was able to do mighty things through him.
Samson is the last Biblical person I would admire, yet that story gave my friend great hope that even with all her failures and sin, God has and is still redeeming her life in amazing ways. His mercies never fail, He never gives up on us.
Whenever we read Facebook or Instagram posts of seemingly perfect people and families, taken at a moment of peace and success, we seem to assume this is everyday normal for them. The Old Testament, however, shows characters as real people – their struggles, weaknesses, failures and joys – and how God works through all of them to bring about good to those who will receive it. For me, the stories remove anxiety because it’s not the people themselves who pose as heroes but are shown for who they are, as fallen humans in the hands of a merciful God.
Do not fear for I am with you;
Do not be dismayed for I am your God;
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Isaiah 41:10
These stories give me great confidence. When I see how God has worked through all those people of old, how He was never in a hurry, how He continued to forgive, how His love was and is so long-suffering and patient – it gives me hope. It helps me to trust and believe that God is who he says he is, He keeps his promises. He is the same yesterday, today and forever.
When I look at all the uncertainty of our age, the virus, the anger and divisions between people groups, the pandemic of fear and anxiety trying to infect us all – I stop and read these stories. I read and re-read them, and it brings me peace. This is not the first time the world has been a tough place to live and it won’t be the last – there is indeed nothing new under the sun.
Take heart and know God cares about you, just like he has cared about all those people living thousands of years ago. He has not forgotten you, he has not forgotten about us as His people. He’s working through all of us – together.
The music is over. Taps has been played, the dirt has been shoveled on the casket, we have all said our goodbyes. Tears have flowed, hugs given, the scent of fragrant flowers and memories still lingering as we left the cemetery.
Olivia Prieto
Six weeks ago, Grandpa said the same thing he has said numerous times during the last few years:
I’m going downhill like a rocket.
Inevitably the next days he would improve and we would continue on with our song of life. So it was no surprise when he commented about the rocket again. The only difference being that this time he didn’t improve.
Hospice came to the house and gave him military honors, Chaplain Dick presenting Grandpa with a certificate thanking him for his service in World War II. Tawnya, Jean and Dick – all from Hospice – videotaped a Life Review as I asked questions and he willingly told stories.
Grandpa’s heart was tired, it had served him faithfully for 94 years but grew steadily weaker by the day.
My memories of you four girls calling just a few hours before Grandpa died, will forever be in my heart. We had planned for your singing at 8:30 Monday evening, but I didn’t think he would live that long. Fifteen minutes later you were on the phone, singing:
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now I’m found,
Was blind but now I see.
How beautiful hearing the melody along with tears and wavering voices for several more verses. And then, as Grandma would always have it, we just had to modulate to the next step higher. Whenever Grandma would play hymns on the piano she could never stay in the same key – we always had to go higher and with more intensity.
The last verse was the final anthem he heard in his life here on earth:
When we’ve been there 10,000 years
Bright shining as the sun.
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Then when we first began….
Grandpa had not spoken or opened his eyes for over 12 hours, but when he heard your voices his eyes fluttered open momentarily. He was breathing slowly but steadily. Two hours later he was gone.
Olivia Prieto
The celebration of life at church was beautiful:
Amazing Grace
I Can Only Imagine…
Wind Beneath My Wings
I’ll Fly Away
The Dutch song Lang Zal se Leven
And finally,
The Hallelujah Chorus
Every night when Dad and I would come home after a day away, Grandpa would say
I’m glad you’re home Shari.
We would leave a few days a week, leaving Grandpa in the care of friends and helpers. And every time we would come home his remark was always the same:
Shari, I’m glad you’re home.
And now, after five and a half years of Grandpa saying that to me, I can say to him:
Dad and I
went to see the film Unplanned yesterday. I
read Abby Johnson’s book by the same name when it came out in 2010 and was
fascinated with her story, so was pleased when I heard it was coming out on the
big screen.
Abby had
been working at a Planned Parenthood Clinic for 8 years, first as a volunteer
escort, then working her way up to become the Director of her clinic in Texas –
becoming the youngest clinic director in Planned Parenthood history. She was good at her job, managing the clinic
orderly and efficiently and truly believed she was helping women in a time of
need. However, she had never been in an
actual procedure room during an abortion.
Although she herself had two abortions when younger, she had never seen an
ultrasound picture during a procedure. But
when she was asked to assist the doctor and visually seeing the reaction of the
unborn baby on the screen while being suctioned, her eyes were opened to the
reality of what she was promoting.
Amazingly, her husband and parents were never in agreement with her choice of a career, but continued to love and pray for her.
Shortly
before she decided to leave her job, she had come home from work with blood on
her shoes. Her daughter who was five at
the time, asked why. Abby replied, Oh, a lady at work hada bloody nose, so I had to help her with it.
The question of a young child, and the lie that was used to cover it up, became a small part of the choice she made to leave the clinic.
Although Dad
and I had planned to eat at our favorite restaurant after the movie, our plans
changed. I became nauseous and had no
appetite when the movie was over. Issues
which seem to be purely political become much more personal when stories like
Unplanned are told. It was a beautiful
story of redemption in Abby’s life, yet has angered many people who don’t agree
with her choice for life.
I applaud Abby for telling her story, even though she knew it would make her an enemy of many who don’t want it to be told.
After the movie, we chatted with the couple who was sitting next to us as the theatre was clearing out. They were probably about our age, she having to use two canes to help her walk. She told us that she had volunteered at the local crisis pregnancy center for 15 years and loved working there. Although she has the desire to continue to work, she is unable because of her difficulty of walking. I admire her for her willingness to be an encouragement to many young women.
I was reminded yesterday of a verse reminding me that God is pro-choice. In Deuteronomy 30:19 Moses writes:
This day… I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live….
It was a
good evening out, but emotionally exhausting for me. I hope you are able to watch it sometime as
well.
Today I played piano at the funeral of Gertie who lived to be 98 ½ years old. I had only met her once – several years ago – but from what I gather she was full of life and love. One of her granddaughters said she was like the energizer bunny, she just kept going and going and going…
Gertie lived from 1920 – 2018. As the pastor mentioned, a lot of life happened in that dash between her birth year and her year of passing. He spoke of her love for life, how she had for years given and given as she helped cared for her six younger siblings, eventually raising her own family. The joy she brought to children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and even a few great-great grandchildren was obviously a large sum.
When four of the great-granddaughters spoke of their memories there were sniffles heard throughout the congregation, young men remembering her delicious homemade dinners, small children loving how she took time and care with each of them, friends musing about their hours together – memories of love and laughter. Whenever someone would leave her home after visiting she would say,
Come again soon, don’t wait too long!
It’s good to go to funerals, to remember the brevity of our own lives. It’s probably even a good idea to think of our own life backward: pondering what people might say at our funeral, then striving to live up to those images.
Gertie loved Jesus, and her life reflected that love as she continually cheered others on, encouraging the weak, playing games with the children – and always with a smile on her face.
As the slide show of Gertie’s life in pictures rolled on, the song I Can Only Imagine played in the background followed by Johnny Cash’s I Walk the Line.
As I left the church my heart was full. Even though I hadn’t known her, I loved her zest for life, her tenacity for joy, and I rejoiced that God created such a woman and that she, in turn, chose to be faithful and true, learning to live life to the fullest. She was an outstanding giver, but in later years she learned to become a receiver. Although she was still in exercise classes at the gym well into her 90’s, she eventually learned to receive help from others.
The first thing Danica said when she walked into the house this afternoon for her piano lesson was, “I’ve memorized part of I Can Only Imagine!” She’s only had the song one week, but obviously loves it. I mentioned that I heard it played at a funeral just that morning and she immediately replied “That’s a great song for a funeral, but it’s a good song anytime.” Indeed it is.
We never know how long any of us have to live on this earth, but I long to fill my dash with giving well, graciously receiving, and living a life of joy.
Love, Mom
Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice,
Joy. It’s such a wonderful emotion when I have it, but at times it seems to be slippery and elusive in my life. Just when I think I have joy it slips through my fingers and disappears. It only takes a word, a phrase, a hurt look in someone’s eyes or a casual observation of people around me.
I’m sure you all know those sunny-side up people who seem to always have a smile on their face and a twinkle in their eyes. I am not one of those. I have to deliberately choose joy because it otherwise subtly turns into a vapor and vanishes.
The other day I was talking with a friend and lamenting that it’s so hard to choose joy because of how I feel physically. For years I have struggled with chronic fatigue – some days are better than others – but it is too often a frustration to me. Then my friend wisely said,
Maybe it’s hard because you keep saying it’s hard.
Those words stopped me in my tracks. Whaddya mean it’s hard because I say it’s hard?
Turns out that those words I stated as a fact – It’s so hard to choose joy – had taken me captive and were robbing my life of the joy I have been seeking. It was hard because I said it was hard.
I think I learned this once or twice before, just like I’ve learned, forgotten and re-learned many other important things in my life. Things like
Be grateful
Live this day as if it were your last
Love others as Jesus loves me
Search for beauty
Forgive those who hurt me
Because I have lots of time on my back, I had plenty of time to look up the song JOY! – performed by the group for King and Country that my above-mentioned JOY friend forwarded to me. Since then I have probably watched it 10 times, enjoying the lyric video, then the Official Music Video, the behind the scenes video, again and again. I need to get this message tattooed into my soul.
I am once again learning to say – It’s easy for me to choose joy. Yes, sometimes I almost choke on those words, but I open my mouth and say it anyway. No matter what I feel like.
It’s easy for me to choose joy.
Being a teacher for decades, I have taught others some excellent ways to live:
Practice makes better -not perfect – but much better.
Joy is a choice.
Joy is God’s perspective on life.
Because my life is in His hands, I can trust him and get my eyes off myself.
There’s nothing wrong with hard
But you know what? It’s a whole lot easier to teach this stuff than to do it myself. I’m working on it but it’s definitely a work in progress.
I am so impressed by the Australian brother duo who call themselves for King andCountry. I had heard of them before but had never paid them much attention until this song stepped into my heart and took hold. Then, as I often do when I learn about a new music group I research them, read their history and get to know them as if they are my friends. I watched interviews, behind the scenes stuff…
Anyway, Luke and Joel Smallbone are the little brothers of Rebecca St. James, who is also an incredible singer/songwriter. Those boys are gifted beyond measure. Their creativity, humor, lyrics and music have propelled them quickly to become my – as well as many others’ – favorite singers.
So, if you haven’t already heard of this group, enjoy and be encouraged. And above all, choose joy even when life is not happening according to your hopes and dreams.
My friend, Julie, told me a story of when she was just 18 and married less than a year.
Julie was working in a dentist’s office – the dentist was in his 50’s, rotund and jovial. Julie herself is quite a jokester, and they bantered back and forth daily as they worked. One day Mr. Dentist told Julie he was in need of some physical satisfaction because his wife was not interested in him that way anymore. So, he had what he considered to be a great deal: If Julie would be willing to help him out in this minor way she would receive a beautiful new car as a gift, signifying his deep appreciation.
Now that could be quite a tempting deal for a teenager. Lay down for a while each week with this fun-loving guy and receive a new car. Sounds like it could be a win-win situation.
Women have historically been used and abused by men. They have been considered a commodity to be consumed instead of a human being to be valued and cherished.
In all the high and low-profile cases we have read surrounding the #metoo (I hear that some are wearying of the reports) women have been coerced to give their bodies to someone who promises a job, a role, a promotion, a new car or a future permanent relationship. I’m sure the temptations are fierce, the promises sound solid and the decisions difficult.
But we always need to remember that we have choices,
a choice to say no
a choice to say yes
a choice to leave
a choice to value our bodies, knowing they are sacred – a gift given to us by God.
The nakedness of sex is far more than physical. It involves every area of our life – our emotions, our spirit and our intellect. The effects of physical interaction with another have long-lasting significance because they affect the deepest part of our persons.
When a man asks for such favors without a lifetime commitment, it’s obvious he is putting his own desires and agenda above all else. He’s thinking about himself and the pleasure he seeks. There is a reason God’s original creation of sex is meant to be within marriage, between a man and a woman for a lifetime. And – as in all the commands He gives – it’s because he loves us and wants the best for us. He wants us to avoid heartache, betrayal, regret and guilt. Instead we are sometimes tempted to think:
I can’t trust the heart of God, I need to take control myself
I need to arrange for my own happiness
I don’t like God’s story for me, I want to rewrite the story my way
Our society is proficient in beguiling us to believe that now is the most important time. We are encouraged not to think about the future (think of those tempting credit cards in your wallet) or the past – keeping busy and distracted every moment of every day.
We are not at all encouraged to consider the outcome of our choices. A new car certainly sounds exciting and wonderful, but there is a price to pay. Whenever we give our bodies to others we are forever connected to them in our memories.
When Julie was offered the new car in exchange for Mr. Dentist’s gratification, she immediately said No. She had not grown up in an ideal home – her mother had died when Julie was only twelve, and because of that trauma her dad turned to alcohol for comfort, neglecting and abusing the children left behind. Yet because her mother had taught her right from wrong before she died, Julie knew that what Mr. Dentist asked for was wrong. She had made a promise to say yes to her husband, which meant saying no to all other men.
Now I understand sexual assault is in a completely different category from Mr. Dentist’s request, and that some women are not given a choice, but when we are….may we choose wisely.
Sadly the next young woman, who was hired after Julie left the dentist office, was driving a new car shortly after her employment began.
There is an old Spanish proverb:
He who loves one woman has loved them all.
He who loves many has loved none.
I pray that we and your daughters will know and always remember that our bodies have intrinsic value which God has bestowed upon us, knowing we are fearfully and wonderfully made – choosing to use our bodies to honor him.
I have always been fascinated by stories behind music, old songs and new. No song ever comes out of a vacuum but reflects a life, an era, a belief system and a heart.
A few weeks ago I read the back story of one of my favorite Christmas songs, O Holy Night. I think it is probably one of the most intriguing stories I have ever heard.
The song started way back in 1847 when a parish priest asked Placide Cappeau – a wine merchant, mayor of the town and sometimes poet in France – to pen a poem for Christmas mass. Cappeau was rather surprised because he was better known for his poetry than his church attendance, but he was honored to take the challenge.
So, as he was traveling by stagecoach to Paris one day, he started reading the Gospel of Luke and imagined himself at the manger in Bethlehem. By the time he reached Paris, Cantique de Noel was complete.
Cappeau was certain that these words needed a tune, so he turned to a friend, Adolphe Adams, for help. Adams had studied at the Paris Conservatory and had been commissioned to write works for orchestras and ballets all over the world – a musician extraordinaire.
The interesting fact is that Adams was of Jewish heritage, so the words were about a holiday he did not celebrate and a man whom he did not believe was the Son of God. Nevertheless, he quickly went to work and the song was performed three weeks later at the midnight Christmas Mass.
Cantique de Noel was immediately lauded and loved by many in France, becoming a Christmas favorite. Sometime later, however, Cappeau decided to become part of the socialist movement, and when some church members found that the tune had been written by a Jew, the song was banned and denounced by Church authorities.
The common French people paid no mind to the intention of burying Cantique de Noel , so continued to sing and share it in their homes and community gatherings. It became a sort of underground hit in France.
About ten years later the song somehow came to the attention of John Sullivan Dwight, an obscure American writer. Being an abolitionist, he was particularly impressed by the lyrics of the third verse:
Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break,
For the slave is our brother;
And in His name all oppression shall cease.
Dwight decided to translate Cantique de Noel into English, renaming it O Holy Night and publishing it in his magazine. It soon came to be celebrated as a song of freedom for the American North during this time of the Civil War.
Fast forward to 1906, when the only type of radios existing were wireless transmitters picking up Morse code. On Christmas Eve that year Reginald Fessenden, a 33-year-old university professor and former chief chemist of Thomas Edison, was tinkering in his office and began to do something that had never before been done. Fessenden started speaking into a microphone he had rigged up and read the Christmas story from Luke 2:
And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed….
Fessenden had no idea who, if anyone, was able to hear his broadcast. After he finished reading the story, he picked up his violin and played O Holy Night – the first song ever to be heard over the airwaves.
There were many who listened to that broadcast on Christmas Eve, some thinking perhaps they were hearing a miracle and indeed it was – in more ways than one.
From the creation of the song in 1847 by two men who really didn’t believe in what they were writing, the song later being shunned by the church hierarchy in France, finding its way to the United States during a time of war, then becoming the first song to ever be heard over the radio, was truly amazing.
Thinking about the wonder of this story, I am amazed at how painstakingly God brought about one of the greatest Christmas songs ever. If He wants something to happen, He will stop at nothing to let it be so. He works through many people, oftentimes unknowingly, weaving together a beautiful story and song out of stranger than fiction happenings.
And if He cares that much about mere music dots on a page and words of a song, how much more does He care about you, and all the circumstances that flow in and out of your life?
Even though we may not see Him, His fingerprints are everywhere if we open our eyes to see.
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