Watching Down the Road

     One of the better known of Jesus' parables is that of the Prodigal Son, found in Luke 15.   Jesus tells of a father who grants the younger of his two sons his request to receive his inheritance early,  then  watches as the boy "sets off for a distant country and there squanders his wealth in wild living."  Just the mere asking to receive his inheritance before his father's death is the worst kind of disrespect he could show his father, but all we know is the father allows it.

    Ultimately, after dishonoring himself with prostitutes and wasting his inheritance, the boy finds himself starving in a famine-stricken country.  Realizing the grave mistake he has made, he repents of his ways and decides to return home and beg his father to take him in as a servant, so he at least won't starve to death.

     "When he came to his senses, he said, 'How many of my father's hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death !  I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.  I am no longer worthy to be called your son;  make me like one of your hired men.'"

     At this point, I imagine that I observed him from a perfect mountainside perch, with a full view of the last two miles he walked on the road toward home.  Even from a distance, I could see in his slumped shoulders and his drooping head how ashamed and self-condemning he was.  He long ago had to throw away his shredded sandals, and his bare, crusty feet dragged heavily as he kicked up the dust.   Each time he thought about turning around in his shame and heading back to the "far country" of his sin, his hunger  carried him forward.  Not just the stabbing knives of hunger in his stomach, but the even more painful hunger in his heart to be home and near his father and brother again.

     I watched him plod along, a defeated young man, but old for his age.  As he passed a huge oak tree next to the road, he remembered that not so long ago, he had passed that very tree, leaving home a rich young man,  headed for what he thought was the good life.  Oh, if only that tree had spoken to him and warned him of his foolishness, before he had gone off and ruined his life.

     His heart quickened as he neared an ancient stone marker that was a mile from his home's front gate.  A marker that he and his older brother had ventured to more than once when they were younger and had childishly threatened to run away from home.  But they had never gone further.  For that is about the time their first pangs of hunger would begin, and they would realize that home wasn't so bad after all.  But those pains were nothing, compared to the hunger he felt on the trip home.

     As he trudged toward home, I had been so intent on observing this young man from my lofty observation point, that I had not seen that someone had begun moving slowly from the other end of the road, through the homestead gate.  As I looked more closely,  I could see that that someone was the boy's father.

     He moved slowly at first, and I saw him put one hand up to shade his eyes, as he looked into the blaze of the setting sun.  How many times had he peered down that road, day after day, never giving up hope ?   Oh, he could have gone after him.  He knew where he was.  He just wanted him home and he wanted the pain to go away.   But he knew the boy had to come back by his own choice.  That was the only way.  Just that morning, he had walked down the road to that old stone marker, thinking this might be the day.  But there was no sign.  Maybe tomorrow, he said to himself walking back.  Maybe tomorrow.

     But now,  the evening of that same day, he thought he could see a speck of movement on the horizon, in spite of the glare.  He walked with a slight limp, and I suspected he must be favoring a bad hip.  What a sight it was, as my eyes took in the two of them.   I had heard what had happened between them months ago, and I actually felt a bit like an intruder as I just happened to be where I could see, even at this distance, what I hoped was going to be a sweet reunion.  I was not disappointed.  

     I was alone, so I wept unashamedly as I saw that father run haltingly, as fast as he could with no regard for that disabled hip.  The boy lifted his head, not believing what he was seeing.  He had never seen his father run this way before,  running and weeping, arms outstretched toward him.  This was a welcome he could never have expected after the way he had treated his father.   And the boy's shame began to reluctantly lift toward a sky that by this time was multi-hued,  as the large red wafer of sun itself had dipped out of sight, below the sky's edge behind him.

     Everything he saw in his father's face told him there would be no "I -told-you-so's."  There would be no having to earn forgiveness.  The fact that he was truly sorry and had the courage to come home was all that would be needed.  All his father could speak about was the celebration they were going to have.  Tomorrow would be the first morning in months that he hadn't walked to the gate, looking down the road and wondering if his son was even alive.  The sound of the father weeping tears of joy harmonized beautifully with the sound of the boy crying tears of repentance.

     As I watched them walk through the gate with the father's arm draped around his son's shoulders  and head toward the house, I couldn't help but ask, how many of us have traveled that same road ?   Either as a rebellious son or daughter, or as a grieving parent, watching the horizon every day for the return of one who has lost their way. 

    Any of us who know the joy of finding someone we thought we had lost,  know what this father meant when he said, "For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found."

    Why should we understand any less the joy that our Heavenly Father in Heaven feels when we honor his faithfulness by turning our hearts toward home and Him ?

     In Luke 15:10, Jesus says, " In the same way,  I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents."

    The Christian poet and songwriter, Rich Mullins, wrote a song called Growing Young, which reveals his own days as a prodigal, and likely hits home in one way or another for all of us.  

     Meditate on these beautiful lyrics, then take the time to go to YouTube and access Growing Young by Rich Mullins, in order to hear the music......

I've gone so far from my home

I've seen the world and I have known
So many secrets I wish now I did not know

'Cause they have crept into my heart
They have left it cold and dark and bleeding
Bleeding and falling apart

And everybody used to tell me big boys don't cry
Well, I've been around enough to know that that was the lie
That held back the tears in the eyes of a thousand prodigal sons

Well, we are children no more, we have sinned and grown old
And our Father still waits and He watches down the road
To see the crying boys come running back to His arms
And be growing young, growing young

I've seen silver turn to dross
Seen the very best there ever was
And I'll tell You, it ain't worth what it costs

And I remember my Father's house
What I wouldn't give right now, just to see Him
And hear Him tell me that He loves me so much

And everybody used to tell me big boys don't cry
Well, I've been around enough to know that that was the lie
That held back the tears in the eyes of a thousand prodigal sons

Well, we are children no more, we have sinned and grown old
And our Father still waits and He watches down the road
To see the crying boys come running back to His arms

And when I thought that I was all alone
It was Your voice I heard calling me back home
And I wonder now, Lord
What it was that made me wait so long

And what kept You waiting for me all that time
Was Your love stronger than my foolish pride?
Will You take me back now
Take me back and let me be Your child

'Cause I've been broken now, I've been saved
I've learned to cry and I've learned how to pray
I'm learning, I'm learning even I can be changed

And everybody used to tell me big boys don't cry
Well, I've been around enough to know that that was the lie
That held back the tears in the eyes of a thousand prodigal sons

Well, we are children no more, we have sinned and grown old
And our Father still waits and He watches down the road
To see the crying boys come running back to His arms
And be growing young, no, no, no, growing young
No, no, no, growing young

    

   

A Heart As Deep As the Ocean

( Please wait until later to view this video clip)

     I first became fascinated with the story of the Titanic when, as a boy, I read Walter Lord's A Night to Remember.   And ever since, I've wished there were something that could have been done to avoid this tragedy at sea.   As with the untimely death of anything that is beautiful and elegant,  the romance of the Ship is strong and we can't resist being pulled in as she leaves us. In his book, Farewell, Titanic:Her Final Legacy, Charles Pellegrino says,

     "No one who has seen the ship and said they were finished with it has ever been able to keep that vow;  its mystique has a way of biting into a person and never letting go."

   

     1,517 people were killed.  Only 706 passengers survived.

     The mystique of this luxury liner increased when Robert Ballard, an explorer/oceanographer found the wreckage in 1985, 960 miles northeast of Manhattan, 73 years after she had plunged 2 1/2 miles to an unmarked grave.  12 years after that, James Cameron, a film producer  who had a fascination with shipwrecks, released in late December, 1997, the blockbuster movie Titanic, a romantic, fictionalized account of the sinking of this unsinkable ship.

     While I knew, of course, that what I saw on the screen was fiction, still it gave my imagination a place to go as I boarded the ship with a suitcase full of its history.  I've watched the film several times, and each time I hope that the outcome will be different.  Even as I see actual film of the wreck resting on the bottom of the North Atlantic, I hope that Captain Smith will listen more urgently to warnings he received and chart a more southerly course, to avoid the fatal iceberg.

     Much of the tragedy is heightened by irony.   As Jack wins in a last-minute poker game a ticket for the voyage, we know what he does not know....that he's won a ticket to one of the most famous tragedies in American history, even if we don't know if he survives it.  As the poor and affluent alike board the ship excitedly, we wonder who will survive.....and who will not.  The cries of warning that we want to shout out are stuck in our silent throats.  Maybe we're mistaken. Maybe this time, the ship will make it unscathed all the way to New York.

     But she is beautiful on this, her maiden voyage.  She is beautiful by day, clean and pristine as Rose recalls over 80 years later that she "can still smell her fresh paint."   She is exquisite by night, her staterooms lit up like glowing jewels against the night sky.  The water and sky are both beautiful and black.....and cold as ice.

  

     As the 101-year old fictional Rose recalls the "last time Titanic ever saw daylight," there's an historical sadness in the truth of what she says.

     The fictional love story between Jack Dawson and Rose DeWitt Bukater, the two main characters, personalizes the tragedy.  When Jack sees the beautiful Rose for the first time, we men can't help but recall the first time we gazed on the woman who captured our heart.  When Rose sees a portfolio full of some rough sketches he's done of some of the unfortunate souls he saw while visiting Paris, she immediately recognizes his artistic ability. 

"You have a gift, Jack.  You see people."

      One of the searing scenes of the film is Jack and Rose kissing while perched on the prow railing,  as the magic of special effects melts them away and leaves only a picture of the same prow resting lonely in the Deep.  Their lightning-quick journey to love is apparently more than lust, since they both show they're willing to sacrifice their lives for each other.  Rose is safely aboard a lifeboat, but chooses to jump back on to the sinking ship, unable to bear the thought of being separated from the young man she would love to spend a hundred years with, even if this will likely be their last night of life.

     As the ship is close to death, Jack and Rose have made their way to the stern railing, which will be the last part of the Titanic to slide beneath the surface.  Rose says something that makes me realize she and I have something in common, when she sentimentally shares with Jack, "Jack, this is where we first met !"  For the night before, Jack had been there and saved her from what appeared to be an attempt to take her own life by jumping off the stern.   (That reminds me.  Someday, I need to write for my great grandchildren how their great-grandmother and I first met.  It's not nearly as dramatic as Rose and Jack's first meeting, but interesting nonetheless.)

  

      As the rear section of the ship begins its descent, and Jack gives Rose last-second instructions on how to survive, I am touched when Jack says, "Trust me, Rose !"  and she replies, "I trust you !" Somehow, in an exceptionally brief time they have developed an uncommon trust, which is vital whether there are years, or only seconds left to live.

     Soon afterward, as they cling to life in the freezing water, the ship having sunk beneath them, Jack resigns himself to certain death, as he helps Rose on to a barely floating piece of wooden debris so she can survive.

     The final scenes of the film are well-crafted, as this fictional movie leaves a life-like impression.  Jack's instructions to Rose to ruthlessly hold onto her own life, even if he doesn't survive, are further evidence of how much he genuinely loves her.

Rose:  I love you Jack.

Jack:  Don't you do that, don't say your goodbyes.  Not yet.  Do you understand me ?

Rose:  I'm so cold.

Jack:  Listen, Rose.  You're gonna get out of here, you're gonna go on and you're gonna make lots of babies, and you're gonna watch them grow.  You're gonna die an old....an old lady warm in her bed, not here, not this night.  Not like this, do you understand me ?

Rose:  I can't feel my body.

Jack:  Winning that ticket, Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me...it brought me to you.  And I'm thankful for that Rose.  I'm thankful.  You must do me this honor.  Promise me you'll survive.  That you won't give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise.

Rose:  I promise.

Jack:  Never let go.

Rose:  I'll never let go, Jack.   I'll never let go.

     Pellegrino includes in Farewell, Titanic one survivor's account of an awful sound....

"within a roughly three-hundred-foot-wide circle of nearly a thousand souls crying out in a unified, dismal moan that George Rheims would recall as 'horrifying, mysterious, supernatural.'"

      I can't imagine how gut-wrenching it was for those who had pulled away some distance in the lifeboats, the individual shouts of their loved ones mercifully covered by the collective cries rising up from that dark, painful water.  There was room for many more in the boats, but the mistake had been made in not fully loading them in the first place.  To return now would invite mayhem that might swamp the boats and cause more deaths.   

     Then there are the excruciating scenes of one of the lifeboats finally having made room and returning empty to the site where hundreds of frozen bodies are floating.   It is not difficult to imagine the reality of April 5, 1912, with 1500 souls dying so quickly in the frigid waters.  The haunting, mournful music is soul-wrenching, making one wish this entire tragedy undone.

 Please view the video clip now, that is attached at the opening of the essay)

      If only the ship could go back to port in Southampton and start over, but more wisely in her newness.  And sail slowly past the Statue of Liberty as she was supposed to.

     But reality is cold and unchanging , as we see the light of early dawn and the RMS Carpathia arriving to pick up the survivors fortunate enough to have found the protection of a lifeboat.   But alas, despite its Captain's extraordinary efforts,  it arrives far, far too late to save anyone from the water.

     Cameron tries to refloat her momentarily, when the debris-filled Ship briefly and brightly resurrects to her pristine maiden days, with the main characters happily gathered around Jack and Rose on the Grand Staircase.  But we know that is a glimpse of another place, where there are no icebergs or dangerous waters.  

    If only that awful iceberg hadn't slipped away from its natural anchor, and drifted unwittingly into the path of one of the most beautiful, splendid ships ever built.  If only I could have warned her.....

     Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of his inheritance?  You do not stay angry forever but delight to show mercy.  You will again have compassion on us; you will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea.------Micah 7:18-19

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

    68 years ago today, July 19, I was about to end 9 months of leisure spent floating in amniotic fluid.  On July 20, 1946, I was born at Mt. Carmel Hospital on the west side of Columbus, Ohio. That 9 months of growing and being nourished within my mother is a time in my life that I've never really thought about as much as I should have.  Generally, no one begins counting days of life until we leave the protection of our mother's womb.

     But as I've grown spiritually,  and understood by faith what God has done for me, I have gained a new appreciation even for those months before I was born.

     For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.------Psalms 139:13-14

     The word of the Lord came to me, saying 'Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, before you were born I set you apart;  I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.'----Jeremiah 1:5

    Then, as recorded in the book of John:

    In reply, Jesus declared, 'I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.   

    How can a man be born when he is old ? Nicodemus asked.  Surely he can not enter a second time into his mother's womb to be born!

    Jesus answered,  I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the spirit.....'-----John 3:3-5

  

     When Nancy and I discovered that our three children, Wendy, Scott and Eric had been conceived, we immediately began to nurture them and renew our awe of the miracle of life, even if we wouldn't actually see them for many months.  And we were able to relive those times with even more awareness, years later, each time we learned we were going to be grandparents !

     The mystery of new life is something I'm willing to accept by faith.  As I developed and grew in Mother's womb,  God knew my name.  He knew how many days of life were ahead of me.  He knew every heartache and happiness I would ever experience.  But because I had been created in His image, I was more than just bones and blood, skin and nerves.  What set me apart was the fact I have a soul.  And I have the freedom to choose.  When I reached the age of accountability and awareness, I used that freedom at times to choose sin.  The first penalty for that sin was the eventual death of my bones and flesh, all of my physical body.  But since the soul is Eternal, there remained the potential for a second penalty, that being eternal separation from God.  But God had made provision so that, in spite of my sin, I can spend forever with Him in a new, incorruptible body.

      Shortly after Jesus' conversation with Nicodemus that I mentioned above, he said these familiar words to Nicodemus:

     For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.-----John 3:16


     And how was this brought about ?    Another miracle.  The Scriptures tell us that the Holy Spirit conceived Jesus in Mary's womb, and God humbled himself into 9 months of his own residence in amniotic fluid.  He was born to die.  After 33 years of humbly ministering and healing, and revealing Himself as the son of God, a sinless Jesus was cruelly executed on a Roman cross.   God sacrificed his perfect son and counted Jesus'  blood as payment for our sins.

     You may be saying this is too heavy of a topic to be considering with my Birthday coming tomorrow.   But maybe it's just that the more birthdays I celebrate,  the more I realize it's been a long, long time since this body of mine floated in amniotic fluid.  And as enjoyable as that was, more and more I'm trying to imagine the perfect place that God has planned for us next.   And I know that I trust His promise that it's going to be with Him.

     

     

Let's Go to the Movies

     A few years ago, I read a statement that I've never forgotten.  My apologies for not being able to give credit to the author, but I remember that he observed we can learn a lot about a person by just reading their check register and their to-do list.   There's probably a lot of truth to that,  even if plastic credit cards and on-line bill payments have taken something away from the checking industry.

     I'd like to suggest we can also learn much about a person if we simply know what their all-time favorite movies are.  I recently spent some time considering my own cinema favorites and was surprised that I listed 29 films spanning 64 years.  I wouldn't have thought my list would have included as many as it did.   For now, make what conclusions you will about why I find these motion pictures so special and entertaining.  In the future, I hope to explain in more depth why some of these had such an impact on me.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington................1939

Shepherd of the Hills...............................1941

Best Years of Our Lives...........................1946

It's a Wonderful Life................................1946

Shane.....................................................1953

Rear Window...........................................1954

Oklahoma................................................1955

An Affair to Remember............................1957

South Pacific...........................................1958

Magnificent Seven...................................1960

Zulu.........................................................1964

Sound of Music.......................................1965

The Natural..............................................1984

Hoosiers..................................................1986

Dead Poet's Society.................................1989

Field of Dreams.......................................1989

Lonesome Dove.......................................1989

Dances with Wolves.................................1990

Last of the Mohicans...............................1992

Shawshank Redemption..........................1994

Titanic.....................................................1997

Saving Private Ryan................................1998

October Sky............................................1999

Gladiator.................................................2000

The Kid...................................................2000

LOTR Fellowship of the Ring..................2001

LOTR Two Towers..................................2002

LOTR Return of the King........................2003

Seabiscuit..............................................2003

     Perhaps it would be interesting and revealing if you would make a similar list of your favorite motion pictures, then consider what they have in common.   Noting the films that are not on our lists might be equally revealing.

  To my descendants:  I can only hope that you'll still have access to these films I've listed, and that there will be motion pictures in the future that you will be able to enjoy, not because they gratify the senses, but because in some way they portray the matters of the heart.   While four of the films on the list do have some objectionable scenes and language, (Shawshank Redemption, Titanic, Saving Private Ryan and Seabiscuit)  they also portray courage, commitment, duty and sacrifice, among other redeeming values.       

     

 

Shoe Story

     Somehow, they've survived.  A smudged, toe-scuffed pair of what were once shiny-white baby shoes, with strings still laced.  Mother can't remember for sure, but judging by how the toes are scraped, it's fairly obvious I learned to crawl in them,  and possibly they even felt the weight of my very first steps.  That alone makes them special.  The world changes dramatically when we first pull ourselves up from the floor,  reach our arms out for balance like a tightrope walker, and amble to Mom's arms. The gleeful response from whoever's in the room, encourages us to turn around and walk the same tightrope  in the other direction to a smiling Dad.   From there, we're just a hop, skip and a jump from getting on the school bus.  I'm sure you parents will agree, as you recall your child's early years,  that life just seemed to pick up breathtaking speed once they learned to walk.

      As I look at these reminders of my early toddler days, I linger momentarily and wonder just how many pairs of shoes I have worn in my life.  I wonder too if somewhere, some kindred soul of mine has actually saved every pair they've ever owned.  I would guess I've worn somewhere between 60-70 pairs of shoes in my lifetime, and that sounds like a large number until I consider that Nancy has that many that she's purchased in the last 6-7 years, hanging in shoe bags in her closet.  

     Actually, I wish these weren't the only shoes from my past that I still possessed.

     I'd like to see the shoes I wore during the summers of 1956 and 1957.   Those were the summers when my Dad took my brother, Steve, and I to Jet Stadium to see the Columbus Jets play baseball.  They were a farm team for the Pittsburgh Pirates in those days.  As much as we looked forward to the game itself and eating hot dogs, popcorn and peanuts, it was something that we did before the game that became especially memorable for me.  In one of those spontaneous, unplanned moments,  we had decided before one of the first games we attended that we should have a race to see who could get from the car to the stadium first.  We were 8 and 10 years old, Dad was 33.  As soon as we exited the 2-door red and white '56 Chevy, our eyes would meet and we'd all take off at once.  We would laugh and get out of breath. So much fun. 

So simple.  Yet so the way fathers, and sons and daughters should be.

Redbird Stadium, about 1950, renamed Jets Stadium in 1955.

    I never won the race,  but I'd still like to have those shoes that I wore, running up the side streets and crossing the main street to the Ball Park.   I'd put them in a treasure chest along with this writing, so my grandchildren and great-grandchildren could look at them and purpose to have simple, yet powerful experiences like that with their children. 

   

      When I was a senior in high school, 8 years later in 1964,  I most likely would have won that race to Jets Stadium, although I don't think my Dad would have conceded a thing.   But I was on the Brookhaven High School track team.  My track career wasn't spectacular, but I was competitive in the 880 yard race and the Mile run.  

    On April 24, 1964,  Brookhaven hosted the first annual Bearcat Relays.  It was the first time we had run in a night meet, under the lights.  A big deal.  I was especially pumped, because my Dad was going to be able to be there.  Because of his job,  he couldn't make it to the meets with the normal earlier start times.  I had been finishing 2nd or 3rd in the 880 yd. run in most races, but that night I was determined to do better.  I went out strong and led after the first lap.  I can still see the look on Coach Mark Whitaker's face as I ran by him and finished the first of 2 laps.  He frowned disbelievingly at his stopwatch, knowing full well that my first lap time was too fast.   I don't remember if I finished last, but if not,  I was close to it.   I had traded a likely 2nd or 3rd place in the race for 1st lap glory.   But I'd still love to have those track shoes in front of me right now.  They would go in the treasure chest too.  Maybe, just maybe, one of my great-grandsons or great-granddaughters will run in a meet someday, thinking of my experience, and win down the stretch, coming from behind.  And after you do, save those shoes, Son...or Sweetheart.  You might want to look at them some day.

 There have been so many special moments in my life with those I love, that if I were to attempt to memorialize each moment or event with a pair of shoes, I would need one very large room to display them all.  And I do not have enough days yet to live to write about each one.  But I trust that my family knows how much I love them and all who will descend from them, as I take the time to write and pass along passions for them that God has placed on my heart.

    Finally, after already mentioning three pairs of shoes that give just a snapshot of the many blessings that have come my way, I would like to include one other pair that I wish I had saved.  

     On June 3, 1968, I graduated from Milligan College with a Bachelor of Arts Degree.  Unfortunately, I don't think I fully appreciated then all of the sacrifices my Mom and Dad had made to give me that opportunity.  Only later, when I was called on to make similar sacrifices did it really hit me.  That June 3rd had to be a proud day for them.  They had made it possible for me to do something neither of them had done.   Although I was ready to leap into the future,  I'm sure they couldn't help but flash back in their minds to the days when I first began to scuff those little shoes and crawl, then walk, as I set their dreams in motion.

   

































       Maybe you'll find it strange to view your life through a lens made of shoes.  But then again, maybe in doing so you'll see some things you didn't see before.

     Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. ------Ephesians 6:14-15

     How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation.-------Isaiah 52:7

     

Sing a New Song

     My first remembrance of embracing contemporary spiritual music, and by that I mean any music of faith besides traditional hymns, was in 1980-1981.  I was experiencing difficult times emotionally and spiritually,  and about that time Bill and Gloria Gaither had begun their singing and songwriting careers with what have since become classic songs of the heart.  The first two I recall that really ministered to me were Something Beautiful :

     Something beautiful, something good.

     All my confusion, he understood.

     All I had to offer him was brokenness and strife,

     But He made something beautiful of my life.

     If there ever were dreams that were lofty and noble
     They were my dreams at the start
     And hope for life's best were the hopes that I harbored
     Down deep in my heart.
     But my dreams turned to ashes
     And my castles all crumbled, my fortune turned to loss.
     So I wrapped it all in the rags of my life
     And laid it at the cross.
     Something beautiful....

and Because He Lives:

     God sent His son and they called him Jesus
     He came to love, heal and forgive
     He lived and died to buy my pardon
     An empty grave is there to prove my Savior lives.

     
     Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.

     Because He lives, all fear is gone.

     Because I know He holds the future

     And life is worth the living just because He lives.

     Then one day I'm gonna cross that river
     I'm gonna fight life's final war with pain
     And then as death gives way to victory
     I'm gonna see those lights of glory and know my Savior reigns.

     Because He lives.....

     And it wasn't just the words that spoke to my need, but the music was like the rich soil in a garden in which the Gaither's lyrics had been planted as flowers.  Other of their songs followed......He Touched Me.   There's Something About That Name.   It Is Finished.   I Will Serve Thee.    I can still sing these songs by memory even now, over 30 years later.  It's difficult to overstate the wonderful impact they had on my spirit as I added them to my daily worship with prayer and Bible reading.   I encourage my grandchildren and other descendants to listen to the songs I've listed below and meditate on their lyrics.  Even if the songs have fallen out of popularity by the time you read this, they're part of your spiritual heritage because they ministered to me so well.  Give them an opportunity to do the same for you.    

     But these songs were just the beginning of an era of contemporary worship music that continues today.  In fact, to the chagrin of some, many churches have put away the traditional hymn books and exclusively sing more modern praise songs in their worship services.  Other churches offer multiple services, giving their worshippers a choice of singing one style or the other.   Some are adamant about choosing one style over the other, but personally, as long as the focus is on Christ, I can worship well with either style.   In a previous essay on this blog, "A Boy's First Church",  I listed many of the traditional hymns I grew up singing and chose some of my favorites.   The following is a list of the praise songs and modern gospel ballads I have come to love over the last 30 years.  Many artists are represented here, but the ones besides the Gaithers who have had the most impact on me are Rich Mullins,  Michael W. Smith,  Twila Paris,  Phillips, Craig & Dean,  and the Cathedrals.  As I did with the traditional hymns, I've placed a star beside particular favorites.

Above All
Agnus Dei  *
As the Deer
Awesome God
Because He Lives  *
Because I'm Forgiven
Bound to Come Some Trouble  *
Breathe
Broken and Spilled Out
Champion of Love
Cry Out to Jesus
Draw Me Close  *
Elijah
Give Me Jesus
Give Thanks
God Is Here
God of Wonders
Growing Young  *
He Knows My Name
He Touched Me
Here I Am to Worship
Hold Me Jesus  *
How Beautiful  *
How Great Is Our God
How Majestic Is Your Name
I Can Only Imagine  *
I Give You My Heart
I Will Serve Thee
In Christ Alone
It Is Finished
Jesus Messiah
Lamb of God
Let Everything That Has Breath
Lord I Lift Your Name on High
Majesty
My Deliverer
My Redeemer Is Faithful and True  *
Oh What a Savior
Open the Eyes of My Heart
Pour My Love on You
Redeemed
Revelation Song
Shout to the Lord
Sinner Saved by Grace
Something Beautiful  *
10,000 Reasons
Thanks to Calvary
There Is None Like You
There's Something About That Name
Voice of Truth
Warrior Is a Child, The
We Shall Behold Him  *
Who Am I
Wonderful Cross
Wonderful Merciful Savior
Worthy Is the Lamb
You Are My King

     

The Richest Book

     Those who believe the Bible to be the precious Word of God will easily think of treasured objects written of in its 66 books, from Genesis to Revelation.  Even those who don't believe it is the Divinely inspired words of God,  may be enthralled with the prospect of finding priceless objects that are told of in its pages, like the Ark of the Covenant or the Cup used by Jesus and His disciples at the Last Supper.   Any remnant of the Crucifixion, if found, would create a stir beyond imagination....for instance,  a splinter of the Cross or the sign that Pilate had hung above Jesus, declaring Him to be the King of the Jews.

Hebrews 11:1 says, "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."

     As a believer, I do not need to see any of these things to give a foundation to my faith.  I love so much that God asks me to accept Him by faith, that I'm not even sure what my response would be if someone were to display a piece of the Cross in a museum.  

     However, strictly out of my love for the rich detail of God's Word, I have considered how thrilling it would be to see even a few of the multitudes of objects that make the Bible such a fascinating road map on the journey to understanding God's plan of redeeming mankind.   I believe that many times we read the Bible so hurriedly, that we don't stop as we should to consider the details and what it would have actually been like to be a part of a particular setting.  If you're guilty of that, like I am, try slowing down and absorbing the richness of the details.

     I hope that you'll enjoy those that I recall here and be inspired to add to the list treasures of the Bible that you would enjoy seeing.    How precious it would be to me to see the following:

• a horn from the ram that took Isaac's place on the altar, when God tested Abraham 
• the blood-stained, "richly ornamented" robe that Joseph's brothers ripped from him
• the room in Egypt where Joseph wept and revealed his identity to his brothers after not seeing them for 22 years
• the papyrus basket in which Moses was placed at birth, to save his life
• the burning bush at Mt. Horeb
• the Rock at Kadesh that God caused to give water to the Israelites
• David's harp, which he played to soothe an anxious King Saul
• David's sling, which he used to slay Goliath
• the furnace where God saved Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego
• the lion's den, where God saved Daniel
• the gifts that the Magi presented to the infant Jesus
• the boat and oars that Jesus and his disciples used
• the cloak that Jesus was wearing when the sick woman touched its hem and was healed
• the four-drachma coin that Jesus miraculously placed in the fish's mouth (Matthew 17)
• the empty alabaster jar, which the woman emptied of its perfume for Jesus' sake
• the sword Peter used to cut off the ear of the high priest's servant in the Garden 
• the rooster that crowed when Peter denied for the third time that he knew Jesus
• the 30 silver coins which Judas received for his betrayal of Jesus, and tried to return
• the robe and crown of thorns which were forced on Jesus
• the mat on which the paralytic man was lowered through the roof by his friends
• the two small copper coins that Jesus saw the widow offer
• Zaccheus' sycamore tree
• the 6 stone jars filled with water, that Jesus turned to wine at the wedding in Cana
• the strips of linen that wrapped Lazarus' buried body
• the towel Jesus wrapped around his waist when he washed the disciples' feet
• the copy of Isaiah that the Ethiopian eunuch was reading in his chariot (Acts 8)
• the basket in which Paul was lowered over the wall in Damascus, to save his life 

     Again, consider the thoughts that would come to your mind if all of these were displayed in one location,  and you knew you were able to look at and touch any of them for as long as you wanted.

A Boy's First Church

     One of my cherished childhood memories is of being seated in the sanctuary of the original Northeast Church of Christ every Sunday morning.  The building, located at the corner of Joyce and Genessee Avenues in the Linden area of Columbus, Ohio, was the place where I learned to worship and love and respect God.  I was baptized there when I was 9 years old.   After a new building was completed in my teen years, the old building continued in use for various functions.  Even though that old structure was eventually destroyed, it was where I spent so much quality time as a boy, that my memory can still worship there.  

     Every Sunday morning's service would begin with the congregation standing and singing Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God Almighty !  The choir would enter the stage area through a door on the left, singing as they entered, and face the congregation.  Maybe part of the fact that is such a special memory is because I liked seeing my beautiful Mother come in with the choir.  To this day, whenever that song is sung, I stand up and travel back to the 1950's and realize that the same God who has seen me through so much, watched me first come to love Him in that place.

The sanctuary of the Northeast Church of Christ, sometime in the late 50's.  I am not sure what the occasion is....possibly Mother's Day recognition.  My Mother is standing at the far right of the back row.

     I can remember singing my heart out in that building.  Especially when there was a children's program, and we were reminded by our teachers to sing loudly.  I was still just young enough not to be self-conscious or to be in the least concerned about whether I was singing in tune.   No one told me I didn't have a quality singing voice.  I suppose they may have thought it was too soon to tell or too soon to make any difference one way or the other.  Time would prove that God did not bless me with sweet-sounding vocal cords.  But even though I would never be asked to sing a solo, nor did I ever learn to play a musical instrument, God did bless me with an uncommon love for music and an extraordinary appreciation for those who are musically talented.   I suppose when I've struggled the most with envy,  it has been when I hear a man sing with a rich baritone.  I pretend that I'm a baritone, but it's always when I'm by myself either in a perfectly echoing stairwell, or in an automobile where I can conveniently sing a duet but drown myself out with just the right amount of volume from the radio.

     In the 1950's, there was no "contemporary" music as we know it today, for worshippers to choose.  Today, I love both the rich, traditional hymns and the relatively recent praise songs.  I can worship well with either style.  But nothing can ever replace the hymns that have been sung for decades, some even for centuries.

     I would hope that my descendants will continue to experience and have a deep appreciation for them, even if your preferred worship songs are those that are more modern.  The lyrics of many of these revered hymns point our hearts to a loving God and our precious Savior.  And the music that was composed to go with the lyrics is soul-stirring.  

     In a future essay, I'll share some of my favorite contemporary worship and praise songs, for I've grown to love them as well.

     I decided to go through some hymnals and make a list of hymns that I began to sing as a boy, and continue to enjoy hearing and singing even today.  I like singing all 100 of these songs, but I anticipated someone might wonder which of these are particular favorites, so I've placed a star next to those.   If you've gotten away from them in general or never experienced them in the first place, try to listen to a few of my favorites that I've starred here, and see if you agree that ,  just as well as the Praise songs, the lyrics and music of the hymns can help lift you into the kind of God-honoring worship that we all desire.

    

A Mighty Fortress Is Our God

Alas! and Did My Savior Bleed

All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name

Amazing Grace* 

Are Ye Able, Said the Master

At Calvary *

Battle Hymn of the Republic

Be Thou My Vision

Beneath the Cross of Jesus *

Beautiful Garden of Prayer

Beulah Land

Beyond the Sunset

Blessed Assurance *

Break Thou the Bread of Life

Burdens Are Lifted at Calvary

Christ Arose!

Christ the Lord Is Risen Today

Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing *

Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus

Count Your Blessings

Crown Him with Many Crowns

Draw Me Nearer

Eternal Father Strong to Save

Face to Face

Fairest Lord Jesus

Faith of Our Fathers

God Be with You

God Will Take Care of You

Great is Thy Faithfulness *

Have Thine Own Way, Lord

Haven of Rest

He Hideth My Soul

He Leadeth Me *

He Lifted Me

He Lives *

Heaven Came Down

Higher Ground

His Eye Is on the Sparrow

His Name is Wonderful

Holy, Holy, Holy ! Lord God Almighty *

How Firm a Foundation *

How Great Thou Art

I Am Thine, O Lord

I Know Who Holds Tomorrow

I Know Whom I Have Believed

I Love to Tell the Story *

I Must Tell Jesus

I Surrender All

I Will Sing of My Redeemer *

I Will Sing the Wondrous Story

I'd Rather Have Jesus *

In the Garden *

It Is Well with My Soul

Ivory Palaces *

Jesus Is Calling *

Jesus Loves Me

Just a Closer Walk with Thee

Just As I Am

Lily of the Valley *

Living for Jesus

Love of God, The

Love Lifted Me

Make Me a Blessing

Near the Cross

Near to the Heart of God

Nearer, My God, to Thee

Nearer, Still Nearer

Nothing But the Blood

O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing

O That Will Be Glory

O Worship the King

Old Rugged Cross *

Onward Christian Soldiers

Open My Eyes That I May See

Praise Ye the Lord, the Almighty

Precious Lord, Take My Hand

Room at the Cross

Savior Like a Shepherd Leas Us

Search Me, O God

Shelter in the Time of Storm

Softly and Tenderly *

Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

Sweet Hour of Prayer *

Take the Name of Jesus with You

Ten Thousand Angels *

The Longer I Serve Him, the Sweeter He Grows *

The Savior Is Waiting

There Is Power in the Blood

This Is My Father's World

'Tis Midnight and on Olive's Brow

'Tis So Sweet to Trust In Jesus *

Trust and Obey

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

Under His Wings

What a Friend We Have in Jesus *

When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

When We all Get to Heaven

Whispering Hope

Whiter than Snow *

Wonderful Grace of Jesus

He Leadeth Me

Before reading, please listen to The Martins sing a cappella, a beautiful rendition of He Leadeth Me.

  I have always appreciated how God has used water to create beauty.
But as I have aged, I believe I have seen his creation of water more and more through spiritual eyes.  When I think of the variety of ways He shows us with water who He is, I am caught simultaneously with both a childlike smile and a lump in my throat. 

     Maybe our great God gathers water in a common puddle, so He can enjoy watching a young, galoshless boy on the way home from school jump into it with both feet.   This same God created the thunderous Falls of Niagara, knowing that men would stand at its edge in awe.  But there are lessons in both the puddle and the Falls, for those who are spiritually alert.

   

 God has blessed America with countless creeks,
brooks, streams, springs, rivers, ponds, lakes and coastal oceans.   Why are we drawn to these ?  I think because each is beautiful in its own way, helping us to retreat from the chaos and cacophony and to find the solitude we so desperately need.  

     One of the most peaceful, restful scenes in the Bible is the one David paints in the 23rd Psalm.  In verses 1 and 2 he says:

     The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.   

    All my life, when reading those verses, I don't think I have ever pictured more than two people---always it has been just the Lord and me.   The low, gradual banks, thick with mature trees, are lush and green and only a stone's-throw apart.  The stream flows almost imperceptibly, the surface smooth and reflecting.   It is so mirror-like that I can see my own reflection next to the Master's.  And our meetings aren't random.  He has led me here to "restore my soul."

     I gently plead with Him that I don't want to leave.  And He assures me that the time will come when I will have a forever place.  But, until then, He will "guide me in paths of righteousness" even through "the valley of the shadow of death." 

     You and I can say, along with the psalmist David, 

        "Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

     So, after a time of refreshing and reassurance,  we leave the comfort of the streamside and return to our calling and ministry, wherever He has placed us for our earthly sojourn.  We take care of our families and meet their needs.  We pray. We do our best to honor God with our jobs, our to-do lists, and even with our leisure time.  Sometimes,  we share our talents, our time, and our treasures.  Other times, we may be withdrawn and selfish.  We honor our aging parents and steadfastly love our children whether they are wayward or faithful.  We ache for our disease-stricken friends, and rejoice with those who are in remission.   Always, we pray.  Sometimes our finances are troubled.  Other times, we receive "good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, and poured into our laps."  There may be seasons of rest, or our schedules can be relentlessly demanding and hectic.  We pray.   And soon, very soon, that haven beside the still waters beckons. 

     But each time we return from being with the Shepherd beside the still waters, it seems we are less troubled,  more hopeful,  and more trusting of what lies ahead.    In Revelation 22, the apostle John shares with us a glimpse of another body of water, one that we shall see forever:

     Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city.  On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month.

     But perhaps, even then, we'll still recall those soft days along the banks of those reflecting waters, when we cast our cares on the Shepherd, and each time He calmed our anxious hearts.