Blubbering fool

To anyone who saw me wiping my eyes in church yesterday morning. . .

I don’t know why, but Transfiguration Sunday is one that always gets me emotionally. Especially the traditional closing hymn:

Alleluia, song of gladness, voice of joy that cannot die;
Alleluia is the anthem ever raised by choirs on high;
In the house of God abiding thus they sing eternally.

Alleluia, thou resoundest, true Jerusalem and free;
Alleluia, joyful mother, all thy children sing with thee,
But by Babylon’s sad waters mourning exiles now are we.

Alleluia cannot always be our song while here below;
Alleluia, our transgressions make us for a while forgo;
For the solemn time is coming when our tears for sin must flow.

Therefore in our hymns we pray Thee, grant us, blessed Trinity,
At the last to keep Thine Easter with Thy faithful saints on high;
There to Thee forever singing Alleluia joyfully.

–LSB #417

Even so, it is well with my soul

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way; when sorrows, like sea billows, roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul.
It is well with my soul, it is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate and hath shed His own blood for my soul.
It is well with my soul, it is well, it is well with my soul.

He lives–oh, the bliss of this glorious thought; my sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to His cross, and I bear it no more. Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
It is well with my soul, it is well, it is well with my soul.

And, Lord, haste the day when our faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll,
The trumpet shall sound and the Lord shall descend; even so it is well with my soul.
It is well with my soul, it is well, it is well with my soul.

-Lutheran Service Book #763

If you are not familiar with the story of the writing of this hymn, please read it here.

O Lord, open my lips. . .

. . .and my mouth will declare Your praise.

You may notice that frequently, when blogging on matters of faith, I often rely on words from Scripture or from hymns rather than my own words. Like Moses, I find myself to be slow of speech. I surely used to be able to express myself with clarity; I have a piece of paper that bestows upon me a B.A. in English cum laude. At this stage in life, however, I find myself incapable of writing anything more complicated than a weekly menu and grocery list. There are thoughts in my head deeper than my stockpot, yes; but getting them out is another matter. I am thankful that there are those who, free from mommy brain, have already written (and written well) what is on my mind.

This is a blessing to me not just in blogging, but in all of life. I might forget which Looper husband is unemployed, but when we pray as a family “Give us this day our daily bread,” God remembers their needs. So too I may become distracted by the things that go wrong every day, but when I sing with my children at bedtime ”I am Jesus’ little lamb, ever glad at heart I am; for my Shepherd gently guides me, knows my need and well provides me; loves me every day the same, even calls me by my name,” I am reminded that we have a heavenly Father whose love for each of us is even greater and stronger than the love of our earthly fathers.

Thanks be to God that His gift of faith is not dependent on my being able to express it in my own words!

Change and decay

On Wednesday a member of our church family had cancer-related surgery. Yesterday a fellow Looper gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Today I learned that one of my childhood heroes, my piano teacher, is now on hospice care. Tomorrow we celebrate Baby Boy’s first year of life. The ebb and flow of life this side of heaven will alway includes sorrow and joy, tears and laughter. Thanks be to God that through His Son, death has been conquered and in heaven there is no weeping or mourning.

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day; earth’s joys grown dim, its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see; O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless; ills have no weight and tears no bitterness.
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still if Thou abide with me!

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes; shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies.
Heav’n’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee; in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

Abide with Me, LSB 878 st. 4-6

Mouths of babes

We’ve been trying to revive our old habit of singing after bedtime prayers. The von Trapps we are not, but it’s a wonderfully simple way to teach hymns to the wee ones without them realizing they are being taught.

The other night Larry asked lost boy #4 (age 3) what hymn he wanted to sing, and was baffled when he replied “Dogs-la-la-lee!” Now, as any hymn-loving mother can plainly see, the little lad wanted to sing the common Doxology. And so we did.

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host!
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!

Christ is risen!

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

The strife is o’er, the battle done;
Now is the victor’s triumph won;
Now be the song of praise begun. Alleluia!

The pow’rs of death have done their worst,
But Christ their legions hath dispersed.
Let shouts of holy joy outburst. Alleluia!

The three sad days have quickly sped,
He rises glorious from the dead.
All glory to our risen Head! Alleluia!

He broke the age-bound chains of hell;
The bars from heav’n’s high portals fell.
Let hymns of praise His triumph tell. Alleluia!

Lord, by the stripes which wounded Thee,
From death’s dread sting Thy servants free
That we may live and sing to Thee. Alleluia!

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

 

He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

On the night when He was betrayed. . .

Once upon a time, I would try to get myself in the right ‘mood’ for Maundy Thursday service: solemn, reflective, and silent. And then I had kids. I tried to shush them, to teach them to match my ‘mood’. But it is impossible to shush five lively lads and one twirly girl into simultaneous silence: they sense mother’s frustration and burst into the opposite of silence. In short, my failed shushing efforts give me a headache not conducive to solemn reflection.

Thanks be to God, His word is present and working even when I’m not in the right ‘mood’! His Name is praised, even when I’m comforting a small boy upset because he can’t get his offering out of the attendance card holder. My sins are forgiven at His Table, even when the same small boy is trying to peer into the chalice and my daughter is whispering to her friend. And so it is still Maundy Thursday, even when every single one of my children manages to forget that on this one occasion we are to leave the sanctuary in silence. Thanks be to God that His grace is much greater than anything that is within me!

Not all the blood of beasts on Jewish altars slain
Could give the guilty conscience peace or wash away the stain.

But Christ, the heav’nly Lamb, takes all our sins away;
A sacrifice of nobler name and richer blood than they.

My faith would lay its hand on that dear head of Thine,
As penitently here I stand confessing guilt is mine.

My soul looks back to see the burden Though didst bear
When hanging on that cursed tree; I know my guilt was there.

Believing, we rejoice to see the curse remove;
We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice and sing His bleeding love.

Hosanna in the highest!

My friend Melody already posted my favorite Palm Sunday hymn, All Glory, Laud, and Honor (LSB 442), so I thought instead I would share a verse from this morning’s closing hymn, No Tramp of Soliders’ Marching Feet (LSB 444):

And yet He comes, the children cheer;
With palms His path is strown,
With ev’ry step the cross draws near:
The King of glory’s throne.
Astride a colt He passes by
As loud hosannas ring,
Or else the very stones would cry
“Behold, behold your King!”

Every year it amazes me how in a few short days, the cries of the crowd will change from “Hosanna!” to “Crucify!” And yet, whether I can comprehend the matter or not, it is what it needed to be. . .it was always part of God’s plan for our salvation, just as He foretold through His prophets.

Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many,
and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,
because he poured out his soul to death and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet he bore the sin of many,
and makes intercession for the transgressors. (Isaiah 53:12)

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem!
Behold, your king is coming to you;
righteous and having salvation is he,
humble and mounted on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey. (Zechariah 9:9)

LSB rebel

Who wants to sing with me. . .

Repeat the hymn again;

To God on high be glory,

And peace on earth to men!

Let us ever walk with Jesus

Though this isn’t particularly one of my favorite hymns, when we sang it in church yesterday morning it seemed to be written just for me.

Let us ever walk with Jesus, follow His example pure,

Through a world that would deceive us and to sin our spirits lure.

Ahhh. . .the endless conflict, trying to follow a pure example in a sinful world.

Onward in His footsteps treading, pilgrims here, our home above,

No wonder I always feel so out of place.

Full of faith and hope and love, let us do our Father’s bidding,

Faithful Lord, with me abide; I shall follow where You guide.

Thank goodness faith is a gift from Him & not of ourselves, or I should fail even more miserably.

Let us suffer here with Jesus, and with patience bear our cross.

Joy will follow all our sadness; where He is, there is no loss.

Though today we sow no laughter, we shall reap celestial joy;

All discomforts that annoy shall give way to mirth here-after.

Sadness. . .loss. . .discomforts. . .yes, that pretty much sums up my life these days (truly all days, but the weight of the stress on my shoulders is heavier right now).

Jesus, here I share Your woe; help me there Your joy to know.

Someday all the trials will be over!

Let us gladly die with Jesus. Since by death He conquered death,

He will free us from destruction, give to us immortal breath.

Let us mortify all passion that would lead us into sin;

And the grave that shuts us in shall but prove the gate to heaven.

Jesus, here with You I die, there to live with You on high.

All by His grace alone. . .

Let us also live with Jesus, He has risen from the dead

That to life we may awaken. Jesus, you are now our head.

We are Your own living members; where You live, there we shall be

In Your presence constantly, living there with You forever.

Jesus, let me faithful be, life eternal grant to me.

Amen! (Yes, yes, it shall be so!)