A Song in the Night

It was one of those tossing and turning nights. I seem to have a lot of those lately. A bleary glance at the clock told me it was 2:30 AM. And faintly I heard something that sounded like a bird singing.....Singing, at that hour! At first I thought it was one of those alarm clocks that sound like birdsong. My Dad had one that went through the whole repertoire of a mockingbird. Incredulously I staggered outside into the cool night.

The stars were bright overhead and it was so quiet, except for the unmistakably loud sound of a real live mockingbird singing its heart out in my neighbor's lemon tree. It was so early the morning commute hadn't even started yet. Don't birds only sing at sunrise? This one's internal clock was surely off, I thought.

Every morning since, I have heard it. The earliest recorded time was 1:30 AM.

At first I was a bit ticked off. I get up at 4 on my work days and every hour of sleep is precious.

But today, God spoke to me as He often does in that still small way He has. He said:

This little bird is singing at my own direction, and who are you to tell it that its not the right time? When is it wrong to sing of My glory, to sing just for the sheer joy of singing. Don't I welcome any prayer, any song, day or night? Am I ever too busy to rejoice when one of my creatures is singing, do I ever turn away from your song?

And I don't know if there is such an expression of a heart that pangs, but my heart did pang as I rolled down the window this morning in the dark just to hear my little friend sing.

A tear threatened, when I thought of all the times I have squashed another's enthusiasm.....a song they longed to share, because I was too busy wallowing in my own problems to open up my heart, my ears, and truly rejoice with them.

And I thought....how I stifle my own song, how I rob someone of the joy of hearing it. Me, for thinking it's not worthy of singing. Then, and this one last thought is painful......of voices long stilled, and how I would give anything to hear them again, no matter the day or the hour.

Thank you little bird, and thank you God. For using one of your creatures to instruct me once again.....

Next time I'll sing

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. Colossians 3:16

As far back as I can remember, the sound of my Mom's singing is woven into the background of my memories. I have talked about it before somewhere in earlier posts. Can you imagine how it must have been to hear her wonderful Soprano drifing through the windows as I walked up the driveway from school?

Of course, I didn't appreciate it then, not nearly as much as I do now.

Last time I was back home she started singing in the car and I really wanted to sing along. The words were right on the edge....oh, I knew them, all right.  But something stopped me and I don't even know what. Who knows, maybe someone was in the car and I was self-conscious. And ever since I got home it has bothered me that I didn't join in. She was singing an old song.......maybe you know it.

"This world is not my home, I'm just a passin through

If Heaven's not my home, then Lord what will I do?

The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door

and I don't feel at home in this world anymore...."

She stopped singing and asked me, "Do you know that song?" I said, "Yes, of course." Memories washed over me when she said that. We used to all get together and sing these songs and many others. Hour were spent, singing and laughing. No one cared how anyone else sounded, but really, I can remember it sounding pretty good. It sounded like joy.

I was ashamed at myself for not singing with her, for not joining in.

For not keeping the memory alive with her.

She said, "Why didn't you sing?"

Indeed. I wish I had.

I know there will come a day when I won't be able to sing with her, and it will make me sad beyond words. Sad that I didn't sing with her every chance I got. But that time is, thankfully, not yet.

It strikes me that I may be the last generation to know those songs. Kids today know many things, they know Miley, and Justin.......

and Beyonce, and JLo....but they don't know these songs about Heaven.

And it's wrong to let them die, just because it may not be "cool" to sing them.

So the next time Mom, I will join you.

I will sing.

The blessings of small town living

I knew I had seen her before, I thought...."Could it be?" As they sang, I was convinced. Her posture was just the same, and her expressions. It was one of my high school gym teachers there before me, one member of a female barbershop quartet singing Christmas carols as part of the special music at the Christian Women's Club event we were attending.

They regularly share their gift of song to local churches and nursing homes. How they must love it when they come....

As they finished their performance, which everyone loved, they went into the foyer and were chatting away quietly amongst themselves when I realized I just had to go talk to her before she left. I walked up and she beamed......I said, "I just wanted to introduce myself, I had you for gym, Tokay High." Imagine my surprise when she popped right back, "Lori Cook," she said with a smile. Mind you, it has been 34 years since I wore that ugly orange gym suit. "Wow," I said flabbergasted, "You are good!"

When we were in High School she was single, but before we graduated she married a coach. It was all very romantic to us girls back then. Ann Ganzer became Ann Braden. I remember one specific day we were all in a circle and she put this funky music on. We were supposed to be learning folk dancing. We were changing all the words, and laughing hysterically. And she scolded us for it.

As I sat back down, my Aunt mentioned that her husband had been in her Graduating class in High School. Such a small world.

There was another lady at our table who I was also trying to place. Then my Mom introduced us...."Ah, Gladys Fever!" We were in choir together at Temple Baptist Church. She was always in a different section, being a tall Soprano. As a short Alto, I was always placed at the end parallel to Marge Jones, the shortest Soprano.

The last time I was back in Lodi, I ran into my Sixth Grade teacher. She knew me too! Before I flatter myself too much I remember that they all know my family and have kept in touch over the years, going to the same grocery stores and running into one another in town.

There is something to this connectedness. I think everyone needs a place where they have been known, and known a long time. It keeps you a bit grounded. Going back is good.

And going forward is very good.

Happy New Year! 2012

The Song around the throne

Don't you wonder where it comes from? That hymn that you almost forgot? It shows up when you are tired, or anxious, or fearful. Or maybe it's a verse that comes just when you need it. They float in and out. Sometimes they are like a little whisper deep in your soul.

That's the Holy Spirit. He can't keep from singing....and in the quiet places in my soul, I join in. I may be anxious, or scared, or worried. But when I hear His song, my own spirit sings along. The arrow of truth sinks deep. It's His way of reminding me.

Jesus is all I need. Jesus is all I need. That's the one I kept hearing this morning. Yes, I know He is. My mind and all my past experiences and logic tell me so and I know it to be true. He is more than enough. It's my heart that falters, slow to get the message.

I was worried about my Mom yesterday. They had to give her a new medication because her heart was beating too fast. The Doctor mentioned stroke. I realized again that someday, sooner than later, I will have to live without her, and I don't want to.

Jesus is enough, yes. But I want her here too. I can't think that she won't be here as long as I will.

I was so distracted and worried that it took someone with Alzheimer's in the passenger seat to tell me that I had the green arrow....that was right after I heard the loud honking behind me.

Then I got irritated at them because they were impatient and I honked back.

As my cousin would say, Onward Christian Soldiers.

Sometimes it does feel like a war.

Inside me He is singing and I am doing my best to sing along. There is an endless song around the throne of God that I like to imagine. And it never stops.

That's the one the Holy Spirit sings....and its the one we will all sing one day, by and by.

Lead me to the cross

Savior I come

Quiet my soul remember

Redemption's Hill

Where Your blood was spilled

For my ransom

Everything I once held dear

I count it all as loss

As I was walking and meditating on this song this morning, I thought, this is what it always comes down to at the beginning and end of every day......We come back when we lay down to sleep and we do quiet our souls. We lay down and then we lay it down too. Then, at the beginning of the day we look up, we return, we say......."It all comes back to You Lord and what You did, every decision we make, we hold up to the cross, in the light of Your grace."

We are humbled because we know that no matter what happens, that is where it all leads....and ends. Everything in this life will ultimately come down to One Thing. What we did with the cross,

what we did with Jesus. No other decision in this life matters really unless we settle that one first. 

Lead me to the cross

Where your love poured out

Bring me to my knees

Lord I lay me down

Rid me of myself

I belong to you

Oh Lead me, lead me to the cross 

Brooke Fraser, Hillsong United

Image from google 

When we all get to Heaven

If I could write a book, that would be the title. It's one of the songs that my family used to sing when we got together. We used to call them "sings." I guess you could call them jam sessions to use a more modern term. My Uncle played the sax but not very well. Uncle Bill played the banjo very well, having been self taught. One of Mom's sisters Aunt Mayvis or Esther would be on piano or organ, and  singing Alto, and my Dad would play what we used to call the "gut bucket," also known as the "washtub bass." (As barefoot Larry illustrates above) He played his alternating two notes right on time. My Mom would do lead soprano and Aunt Lois and all of us kids would round out vocals, when we weren't holding our ears in mock horror.

Those choruses roll over in my mind and I love hearing them. They are part of the fabric of my being. Uncle Bill and Aunt Esther have been gone several years now. Aunt Mayvis is sorting through my Uncle's things now, since he won't be coming home again. Aunt Lois has been alone for years now, and my cousin was home last weekend helping her out at the house. My Mom and Dad, thankfully are going strong.

But we are all getting closer and closer to "that time." Even me. It gives me pause.

It also gives me strength to honor all their memories by taking care of myself.....living well....and keeping their stories alive.

I want my niece to know what kind of people she comes from, how strong they were and how proud I am of them all. For their stories are all of our stories. Their lives were marked with sacrifice and hardship and they never gave up. They were thinking of the future, theirs and ours.  

So every now and again I resurrect the stories here.....to honor them.

I find myself wishing I could have been there when my Aunt and Uncle and two friends all got perms when they came to California in the late 1930's in their old Ford piled with everything they could put on top. The relatives thoughtfully had a place ready for them to live......in the chicken coop. But they didn't know that then.

Or seen my Grandmother and Grandfather rescue the baby chicks that didn't drown in the rainstorm, bringing them in by the wood stove to dry.

I think I can almost see them looking back as they left their farm behind in North Dakota to move to California.... I know they shed many tears for the little girl they left behind, her small 2 year old body marked with a lamb on the stone......and all their animal friends, each one of whom were named. They were their working partners through several harsh winters.

And I wish I could have seen my Mom win my Dad back after they had a fight in high school, she in her black dress and gold lame shoes, singing a love song on stage at the school talent show. She and my Dad reconciled that night.

I remember them all today. Their lives encourage me to take care of myself and do my best to make them proud, and to cherish every year God gives me, and to never ever give up.

Always keeping their stories living, breathing, with me.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1

I Flew to Work

"Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low: and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain:" Isaiah 40:4

Nothing against the current Christian music scene, but sometimes you just need something that makes the sky crack open and Heaven come down. Songs about "losing my keys, that's the stuff He uses" is okay, but not for me this morning. I needed to raise the rooftop, or in my case, the sunroof since I was driving. Nothing does that like Handel's Messiah. I had forgotten that I had left it in the car from Christmas. I was going to start with the Easter portion, but then I thought better of it. I needed the whole enchilada........

Birth......Death.....Resurrection

Only problem is, the more I was inspired and lifted to the Heavens, the faster I drove. By the time I got to telling the good tidings to Zion, I was going 82 in a 65 MPH zone! What's worse, sometimes I get so inspired by this great work of Handel that I actually have to close my eyes! That's another problem when you're driving.

By the time I pulled into the parking lot at work to the soaring strings of "For unto Us a Child is Born" I felt like I was in the throne room of Heaven. This great work has always inspired me to tears. I find that when I start to sing certain parts of it, my throat closes up and I can't sing. It always takes me back to when I learned it in choir years ago.

It was an Easter Sunday and we had to "borrow" an Adventist Church for the big crowd. Our director at that time had experience singing opera and he had a great voice, (he was also very easy on the eyes), but that's another story.....He had some professional guest soloists come in from an opera company. We all practiced very hard....It was quite a feat and we were all very proud of ourselves. Our director made a bunch of North Dakota German/Russian laypeople, many of whom were pushing 50 sound darn good!

My brother ended up dedicating his life to the Lord that day. I will never forget how handsome he looked walking down that aisle, how gallant and humble, this tan wide-shouldered man in his white shirt.

It was a great Easter that year.......But then again, isn't every Easter?

I made it to work without any speeding tickets, praise the Lord!  Hope your weekend is a great one.....and may you count many Slug bugs, Punch a Buggies, or whatever you call them in your neck of the woods!

Don't miss the moment......

"Just the simple observations of a quiet morning walk can sometimes have the power to set the whole world right"....this was taken out in the back forty of my brother's yard.

Coming home, I realize as always that I have brought them all back with me. I hear their voices still in the quiet moments of reflection. This trip was so good on so many levels. We arrived, my friend and I, on the heels of a storm, a very windy one. We blew good weather in it seems, for the whole week we were there it dawned sunny and bright......unseasonably so. It seems we brought the good weather of Arizona and they were all happy we did. 

The trip all started with a phone call. My Mom told me that my cousin had arranged for a group to attend the performance of  "In the Mood." It started me to thinking......how often will we all be able to get together like this again, my two Aunts, my cousin, my Mom and I? My friend also needed to see her brother, it was time.

Ever have a trip that seemed God ordained? The timing was right for so many things......This trip was like a string of miracles, one after another. Every now and then a trip works out that way.

How wonderful to be heralded by a little head looking out the window in anticipation of my arrival. She was standing on the bed and as soon as she saw me she started jumping up and down.

My friend went on to Modesto, her home town, where she got to spend two wonderful days on a mostly deserted beach in Moss Landing. From her description, I felt I went there myself. It was a good time for just the two of them, and I prayed that they would get to do that together. Another answered prayer.....

And another miracle, she got to attend church with her Nephew, who has been reunited with his wife, now clean and off drugs....both of them now off the street with their six children, all of them in church and doing remarkably well. To think that so much heartache and pain could lead to this? Only God could do that......so many sleepless nights, so many tears and prayers shed for them. To be able to put all that aside and extend grace to them now, that's Holy Spirit work!

She was also reunited with a friend of long ago, now a Christian too, and clean and sober after many years of addiction. There was much joy in their reunion, sisters now and friends again twenty years down the road....

Even little miracles happened on this trip......I wandered into Tom's Used Books, never hoping to find a book I was looking for, since it was several years old, and there on the shelf was one copy!

I got to attend an event in my Old High School auditorium that has now been turned into a theater. I would go again in a heartbeat, it was great! Afterwards we went to my Aunt's house where she layed out a wonderful buffet, complete with champagne. I know it would have been easy for her not to do it. My Uncle suffers from severe dementia and she is his caretaker now....but still, she created a magical evening for us. It was a precious time spend with wonderful friends and family.

One of the best memories I brought back was when my Mom, my Aunt and I sang at the piano just like we used to for so many years....we sang the old hymns together as my cousin held the flashlight, (My Uncle has broken all the lightbulbs)

All my life I have been surrounded by strong people who in spite of much hardship, have never lost the miracle of the moment. They have taught me how to slow down enough to see the magic happening all around us, all of the time......What a gift! How blessed I am to have learned that lesson from them.

photos taken with iphone

Imagining how it was.....

I was asked the other day if I thought Jesus sang.......like did He ever walk down the road and break into song? I said I thought He probably did. The Bible says He sang songs of worship with His disciples, and He was filled with the Spirit so, yes I believe there were times when He spontaneously burst into song. Just imagining that set my mind in motion. Can you imagine hearing Him sing, or laugh? Seeing His face light up with a smile?

I think sometimes it is hard for us to think of Jesus as fully human. But I love to imagine Jesus doing the simple things of life. Walking down the road with His friends, or maybe helping His Mom with a task around the house, sitting down to dinner with His family. It is hard for us, for me anyway, to imagine Him being silly or joking around. Did He tease His Mother? Pull a practical joke on His brothers or sisters? I like to think He did. He was after all, fully God but also fully man, and fully human. 

I like to imagine those simple times when He greeted His friends with a smile or put an arm around them while walking, lifting His face to Heaven while He prayed, or sang a song, swung a child around just to listen to them laugh.

I like this form of meditation, imagining Jesus and how it was..... I think that many times He probably felt very burdened when He looked out over the crowds, at the immensity of the need, the desperation. I think it made Him sad many times, when people just didn't get the message, couldn't grasp His love for them.

But I also think there were times when Jesus had to lighten the mood by cracking a joke.

Something Worth Singing About

The best way to honor someone's legacy is to pass it on....... "A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. John 15:12

One of the most valuable things I learned, and am still learning from my parents is that no matter what life throws at you, you just keep going, press on, never sink into defeat. You tighten the straps of your backpack and hit the trail again.You can despair for a time, but ultimately you get up and start doing what has to be done, keep the rhythm of life going. For as long as I can remember, my Mom has started the day singing. She does it a bit less now.....her days are long and she has many aches and pains, but she still gets up before everyone else. She presses on. She has always found something worth singing about. She knows the song of redemption.

Love is showing through demonstration that there is always a reason to sing because life is a gift. 

I was raised with music, singing. I was raised with people who believed that there was always something worth singing about. My Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, all of us gathered around while somebody played the piano or organ.....I can still hear their voices even now all these years later, my Grandmother's warbly soprano, my Aunt's alto harmonies, the plink-plink of my Uncle Bill's banjo. What wonderful memories those are, they weaved themselves into the fabric of my very being, they are part of who I am today.

There is something about singing that lifts the spirit when nothing else can. There is power in song. This is part of our very DNA set there by our Creator. He first put the song in our hearts and He sang the stars into existence! Ever notice that kids find it very easy to sing? It just comes naturally. But life can really stifle that song right out of you at times.....you don't have to let it. Heaven is filled with music we can scarely imagine, and when we sing in spite of how bad things may get down here, we bring part of Heaven down on earth. Turn that old music master Satan's instrument against him!

I think of the Slaves, singing out through the depths and horrors of bondage, of death all around them. I think of soldiers singing as they march into battle......I think of Paul and Silas' song in prison and Jesus and His disciples singing a hymn before they went out into the black night of sorrow. They were all thinking of the joy set before them as Jesus was......Freedom, peace, deliverance, Heaven.......

This morning I remembered all those songs. They made me sad for times past, but also encouraged me to pick up the song and sing with them. As I was pouring my coffee, The Holy Spirit breathed a little song into my heart that I had completely forgotten about and I found myself singing it on the way to work, though I had a hard time remembering the melody for the first few bars.......The lyrics say......"You are the reason I sing, You who taught all bells of Heaven to ring, I had no song just drifted along, but now You're the reason I sing......"

Yes, that redemption song. That's the best way to honor all who have gone before, and those still with me, I choose to keep singing the song of hope and never stop.