Say It With Music Part 2

Hezekiah Walker - "Every Praise"

Say It With Music Part 1

Sometimes it can all be summed up in a song. This week the blog will focus on music that hits the mark.

Klipspringers

Hubakkuk 3:19 -- "The Sovereign LORD is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights." 

iamge: "Klipspringer" by I, Munificent/wikipedia.org

That unique sound of hoof against rock face draws one's attention long before the eye can train in on the small goat-like animal. His dense olive shaded coat peppered with spots blends in so smoothly with the koppies [rock outcrops] on which he perches that it's difficult to make out his shape -- that is until he springs about again on his dainty legs.Watching he and his family pounce from surface to surface amazes me. How is it that they don't slip or misstep - but land perfectly each time they leap? And how in the world do their tiny little offspring follow with such agility and grace from the moment they are able to stand up?

I stand in awe with my fingers on the camera from the other side of the fence at the Jacksonville zoo. These, the smallest of Antelopes, never fail to fascinate. From shoulder to hoof these tiny titans are less than two feet tall and when standing still, all four hooves fit nicely within the space of a Canadian Looney [or dollar bill]. And - unlike we humans - Klipspringers pair for life.

Rock steady, the flitting little feet of these amazing animals never stumble -- VERY unlike we humans.

There are so many moments in this life of mine when my feet seem to intentionally seek out ways to to trip up. There is simply no way for me to count the number of times I've fallen flat on my face when it comes to my walk with the Lord. I think that's why Habakkuk 3:19 resonates so well - and another reason why I cannot take my eyes off the Klipspringers. I can see how beautiful it is to have feet like that of a deer and to be so steady on the rocky crags of every day life.

I am reminded of God's amazing works and wonders as I watch the Klipspringers dance upon their rocks with grace. And I am so very thankful for the grace and mercy of my Lord, Jesus Christ -- he is my strength and stability. And that is such a beautiful, beautiful thing.

New Every Morning

Lamentations 3:21-23 -- "Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."

image: labellehibou.com

Sunshine illuminates the Spanish Moss hanging on the big oak tree in my front yard and a gentle breeze catches the gray curly tendrils causing them to sway - like long hair moving in the wind.  Big fat water droplets hanging precariously from the heavy stalks on my Bird of Paradise shine brightly like Christmas tree lights - twinkling and winking each time they catch the sunny rays of light from our Florida sunshine. We've had more than a week strait of nothing but cold drizzly rain. It's beautiful to see the sun this morning. I can open the windows wide and let the cats out on the porch to roll around on the cool concrete as they take in the sounds of the forest just beyond our yard. 

It doesn't rain forever - but I assure you that we Sunshine Staters were beginning to wonder if it would. With the new morning on this happy Friday comes the waking up of many a Saint Johns residents who found themselves feeling as gray as the winter skies. There's a joy in the footsteps of my neighbors as they walk their dogs. And the kids that speed by on their bikes on the way to school are laughing so loudly that I can hear them from my bedroom. It's wonderful. What a difference a little sunshine makes!

I can't lie, sometimes I feel as if green sticky moss has began to grow over the windows of my heart and mind - just like it grows on the porch floor due to all the rain. Sometimes everyday life gets so much rain that I find myself clambering to keep up. It's a battle with the broom and dustpan - just to clear the cobwebs out of my head or shew the fog from behind my eyes. It's as if that green goo will take over and grow over everything from the screen door on the back porch to the glass on the windows by the front door. 

Which makes these verses in Lamentations even more meaningful. The author of this book describes a depressed spirit. In the verses prior to 21-23 of chapter 3 we see a gloomy soul. He [most likely Jeremiah] says that he's been deprived of peace and that's he's forgotten what prosperity is. He says his splendor is all gone.

I think it's safe to say that at one point or another we all kind of feel that way. We all have green sticky moss with which to contend. The wonderful and beautiful thing is we KNOW we have hope in or Lord. Just like the author of Lamentations we can call to mind that the love of our Lord  is great and endures forever - and so we have sunshine popping through the gray.  Like the good fellow citizens of Saint Johns this morning - we know that the rain won't last forever. And when that beautiful warm sunshine comes out again - we relish in the joy of it.

We smile - because we know that the compassions of our Lord are new every single morning.

Dad's Dance

I Peter 1:3 -- "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead..."

image: archive.constantcontact.com

Looking down at my feet I listened intently as my Dad told me which foot to put forward next. There was no music by which to dance, but my Dad hummed something - a tune I didn't recognize. He slowly turned me with one arm reaching over my head and then resumed the lead.

My eleventh year on this planet was one of the hardest. Dad and I often butted heads as I clumsily broke from the cocoon of little-girl-hood and attempted to try out new wings that had yet to dry out properly. In that year I was given the freedom to disagree with my parents - as long as I did so in a respectful manner. The storms erupted seldom because I disagreed - and more often because I had a short fuse and lacked the maturity to demonstrate self control. I truly do not understand how my Mom and Dad put up with that sour little tongue of mine. It is no small compliment when I say that I have been richly blessed with amazingly patient parents.

A slump had taken over me that night as the bright tropical night exploded with stars. My little sister had been invited next door to enjoy the company of a fellow MK. By itself the invite was harmless - but the fellow MK put much fanfare into making obvious the exclusion of yours truly. When my sister decided to accept the invitation, anyway - I was more than a little bummed.

Thus -- the impromptu Father/Daughter dance.

As my feet repeatedly stomped down on my Dad's toes, he smiled at me and kept on humming. I'll never forget his gentleness. I'll never forget the smooth way in which he proceeded to teach me grace. In his subtle fatherly manner he was letting me know that it was ok that I felt chunky and clunky and even a little insignificant. I would eventually learn the steps and form would follow. He was instilling in me hope. I would not always be awkward and left out. One day my new wings would unfold completely and dry out into something beautiful and useful for God.

I can still hear my Dad humming that tune, sometimes. I remember him pulling me in for a hug just before he switched partners and reached for my Mom. It was a sweet moment. A moment that might not have happened had I, too, been issued an invite next door.

Picking up empty soda bottles, used-up batteries, and smelly tennis shoes left on the floor by my two semi-adult boys - I don't always feel like a princess. But that night in the balmy Philippine Islands, I did. My Dad made sure that I did. That's how very much he loves me.

And - that's how very much our Father loves us. We might be in a slump from time to time - but our Amazing Father loves us so, so very much that he has instilled in us a Living Hope. It's not just one dance - one beautiful moment to grant us encouragement - - but it's a living breathing hope that will last beyond our lifetime. It's the ultimate hope that ensures we can always be with Him - our Father - entrenched forever in His love and gentleness, His mercy and grace.

I'll never forget the love and gentleness granted to me during Dad's dance. Looking back - I can see how he demonstrated the love and gentleness of our Heavenly Father, as well. I will always cherish that moment.

Wait, Wait ... I Know This One

Isaiah 42:9 -- "See, the things said before have come about, and now I give word of new things: before they come I give you news of them."

 A Christmas Story/notable.ca

As each line is flawlessly delivered my mouth moves along with the actors on the screen. And though I've seen this film at least a thousand times, I laugh on que, I cry near the end, and I have that warm fuzzy feeling all over when the credits start to roll. 

Every year as the Christmas season starts to get a good momentum built up I slow things down by watching a few of my favorite films. True, the guys don't watch them with me on account of them bein' chick flicks and all - but each precious movie drums up some wonderful memories with some awesome friends and fellow MK's. [Missionary Kids].

As Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen dance around to the tune of "Sisters" I smile from the top of my head down to my holiday painted toe-nails because I remember when the Hawkins girls, my sister, and I put on a reenactment of the song for our parents. It was quite the production.

It's  Christmas Charlie Brown/huffingtonpost.com

As Bridget Jones goes all bug-eyed when she realizes her dear Mr. Darcey has seen the ramblings in her diary I still cover my mouth with my hands and whisper "oh no!"

And I can't leave out the shriek of triumph that erupts from my lips when a certain Prime Minister gets home from business abroad and enters Heathrow Airport. I cheer as his girlfriend leaps up into his arms - overjoyed that he's made it back home. In that moment on film - I really DO believe that Love, Actually DOES exist all around us!

These films, along with some of my favorite books, hold cherished stories that I love to revisit every single year. It doesn't matter that I know the ending or that I know every single scene change and character by heart. They are wonderful experiences. They STILL inspire. As Garth Brooks so romantically put it - I don't want to miss the dance - even though I know how it all unfolds.

It's A Wonderful Life/huffingtonpost.com

There are moments in my life when I get lazy about the zeal I should have for Jesus. I take for granted that I know the ending of this tale and sometimes neglect to fight - simply because I know this battle is already won. But each note played, every beat and cadence to the lyrics won't fill out the sheet music in melodious victory if all of us decline to play our part in this orchestra. Yes, we know how it ends. We know that Jesus died in the end and then rose again to claim victory over death. We know that one day we will see him when he calls us each home to be with him. But in the mean time - we can STILL inspire. There are wonderful experiences out there we might miss if we sit on the side lines. And even more importantly - how will others have the opportunity to enjoy the music if we don't ask them to dance?

Pinch Hitter

Hebrews 10:19 -- "Brothers and sisters, we are not afraid to enter the Most Holy Room. We enter boldly because of the blood of Jesus." [NIRV]

image: onlineathens.com

The room was dim and hued with the slight blue green glow of the monitor attached to my husband. There were more wires sticking out of him than I could count and I couldn't take my eyes off the blinking screen. With every struggling breath he took, I watched Steven's heart-rate climb ever upward while his blood pressure continued to tank. Every breath from my own lips was a prayer.

Pneumonia was kicking his butt.

After six whole liters of IV fluid Steven's heart rate began to come back down and his exhausted body lay limp on the bed with a breathing tube in his mouth and a cannula for oxygen around his face. When his eyes finally closed to rest - I softly put the palm of my hand to his chest - just to reassure myself that his heart was beating and his lungs were pumping the way they should.

I know that in the game of baseball a pinch hitter is a back-up player that replaces a batter not performing up to par. In Steven's case - since his lungs were too flooded to do the work alone - a nice man from respiratory came in and issued a pinch breather. From the simple looking tube in Steven's mouth came a wonderful medicine that opened up his air ways. Before too long, the O2-SAT readings [oxygen saturation level] on my nemesis, the monitor, were showing great improvement. My own breathing began to even out some as I began to run down the list of family members who would need to be notified and began dialing each phone number.

I wanted a pinch hitter for my husband. I wanted a patient advocate that would have Steven's best interest at heart and apply the medicine and technology that would allow him everything he needed to heal.

No too long after official admission into Baptist South we were introduced to a wonderful nurse by the name of Damon. Damon is the bomb, let me tell you. If Steven so much as fluttered an eye lid Damon was right by his side - checking vitals, giving meds, and adjusting IV's. Not only did he take the mechanics of his job seriously - but he also put some flare into the performing of it. He laughed, he joked, he talked about his family and then asked about ours. He shared parental anecdotes and even a recipe or two. But he never took his eyes off of Steven. He even committed the ultimate nursing fopaux by second guessing instructions left by Dr. Internal Medicine when it came to the antibiotics in Steven's IV. Damon's sole concern was the well-being of his patient. He was our advocate. He was our link to Steven's doctor and he did everything he could on Steven's behalf to ensure that my husband was given every care possible.

As mere humans mucking things up on this planet - we don't have what it takes to reach God on our own. We were/are in desperate need of a pinch hitter . . . someone who has what it really takes to knock the ball out of the park and bring us all to home plate.

The beautiful thing is: we have that Someone. We can walk boldly over home plate because Jesus shed his blood to cover our inadequacies. His blood washed our sins clean and we can now stand before God free of all the things that we humans allow to come between us and Him. Jesus is our advocate - our link to our Maker. He did EVERYTHING on our behalf to ensure that we are once again reunited with God.

What wonderful news! We have already been gifted One who would go to bat for us! AND -- we know that Jesus has already won the whole game for us.

THAT my friends - is reason to celebrate, indeed!

Blogless Today.

Since I am up at the hospital with my husband there will not be a new blog today. I thank you for understanding.

Heart Of Fresh

Ezekiel 11:19 -- I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh.

image: AARP.com

I heard the heavy door creak open before I noticed the thin line of light broaden on the cold floor. The nurse had come to check on that thing I like to call - the I.V. Monster. During the night the large clear fluid bag had emptied out leaving the rolling monitor beeping in a loud cranky voice to get some much needed attention. I was surprised that my son - to whom the thing was attached - did not even stir during the whole ordeal. The nurse even managed to check his vitals without so much as causing a flutter on his closed eye lids. She was very good at her job.

When I sat up to stretch from my position on the pullout couch the wonderful nurse looked over at me and apologized for waking me. But the truth is, I'd never been asleep. I just lay there thinking about the pain on my oldest baby's face and the resulting unexpected three day stay at Baptist. With only a week or so to go until Christmas, I was kind of worried that poor Brian would be opening his gifts from a hospital bed.

It wasn't just Christmas that was weighing heavy on my mind. Obviously the REASON behind Brian's hospital admission was causing a great deal of a different kind of pain in my heart. With dry and itchy sleep-deprived eyes I watched my baby sleep through some pretty heavy drugs. The sigh escaped my lips before I even realized my mouth was open.

The results from Brian's tests had come in - he was turning into his mother. There is no ache like the pointless guilt we feel when we realize we've passed some pretty funky genetic material to our children - and are then sitting bed-side watching them fight some of the same chronic health problems that you've been fighting for years. It just didn't seem fair - and a slow, crock-pot kind of simmer began to settle into some pretty deep anger idling in the pit of my stomach. I did not want my boys to struggle with diabetes, liver disease, and the vitamin D deficiency that can come from all of it. Obviously no mother wishes those things for her children - but here was Brian, sleeping in a bed at Baptist South because of pancreatitis - a thing that can happen in those who have diabetes. And here was his awesome nurse telling me that from now on, Brian's diet was going to have to be very, very different.

He was well on the road to turning into me. Now there's a scary thought ladies and gents.

All kidding aside - as I begin to incessantly pray a desperate mother's prayer for the restored health of her children - Ezekiel 11:19 comes to mind.

[Sometimes the thing that gets healed in a hospital room isn't just one's physical body - but one's spiritual heart.] When Brian finally opened his eyes and the green pallor began to pass from his clammy skin - he and I began to talk about change. In fact, after a very rocky and chaotic 2014 - I came to the realization that our diet isn't the only thing we need to modify. -- And while the glittery ball dropped this past week to usher in a shiny new year - it occurred to me that resolution season may be the perfect opportunity to instigate a few spiritual changes.

image: virginactive.co.uk

Verse 19 of the 11th chapter in Ezekiel puts it so perfectly. I WANT my Father to give me an undivided heart! That is - a heart that is completely focused on HIS will - not on MY life. I long to serve my Lord wholly and utterly - with no abandon what-so-ever. It's time to change my spiritual diet along with my physical one! No longer should I eat food because it's convenient, easy, or comforting - but I need to start looking to thrive on nutrient rich sustenance.

Isn't that how a branch grows? ...by nutrient rich soil? Isn't my Lord the Vine and I the branch? [John 15:5]

As 2015 gets off to a great start - what are some changes to which you are resolved? Does your spiritual diet need to be re-fortified? Do you need a new spirit within which let loose a stationary heart of stone so that you may grow a heart of FRESH?