struck

I've been singing in church since I was about eight and sometimes I think I've read, heard, and have sung each and every song in the church hymnal. I have all my old favorites from over the years... those that inspire me, those that convict me, that motivate me, and encourage me. And there are those, too, that I'd rather not sing - that are too high, too low, too slow, too old.

Our congregation recently made the move to projecting our songs onto a great big screen at the front of the sanctuary. The hymnals are still available for those who prefer them ... which I do. Somehow, I feel more connected to the music - to the words that were written, to the melodies and the harmonies, to the old authors of faith - if I'm holding the book in my hand. I love the feel of the pages as I turn them, the weightiness of the hymnal, and the familiarity I feel as I pass by one great song in search of another.

This morning we sang a song that, if I've heard it before, it must have been a long time ago. It was familiar and yet it struck me in a way that was so sweet and new that I simply sat and only listened to the third verse.

No doubt, in this forum, the lyrics will likely fail at conveying the intensity they evoked in me. And yet, here they are anyway. If you have a chance to hear, or sing it, I wonder if it will affect you the same way. The chorus, which I've included last, is replaying through my mind still.

"There is a place of quiet rest
Near to the heart of God
A place where sin cannot molest
Near to the heart of God

There is a place of comfort sweet
Near to the heart of God
A place where we our Savior meet
Near to the heart of God

There is a place of full release
Near to the heart of God
A place where all is joy and peace
Near to the heart of God

(and my favorite part, the chorus)

Oh Jesus, blest Redeemer
Sent from the heart of God
Hold us who wait before Thee
Near to the heart of God..."

a worthy read: the glass castle

I was hooked soon after I began reading this captivating memoir. It's not a book I would have normally selected so I'm thankful my mother-in-law gave it to me.

The Glass Castle tells the heartbreaking and inspiring true story of four small children who endure and ultimately survive the immeasurable failure of their parents during their childhood.

Jeannette Walls, the second eldest of the children, takes her readers on an inconceivable journey... where parents are a contradiction of love and neglect: on the one hand, attentive and intellectually nurturing; on the other, negligent in providing for basic needs such as food, shelter, and protection.

Walls's parents, Rex and Rose Mary, are non-conformist rebels... adventurous, idealistic dream-chasers. You will sometimes like them. You will mostly hate them.

They are sometimes amusing, sometimes inspiring, sometimes practical. They are always brilliant. They are also reckless, irrational, shocking, self-destructive, and categorically selfish.

Their children are the victims.

Strangely, they do love their children and, through the years, they teach them the importance of kindness, compassion, individualism, curiosity, and self-reliance. But, paradoxically, they demonstrate little kindness and compassion toward the needs of their children, and ultimately, the children must struggle day-after-day to survive them.

Throughout their ordeals, the family's experiences raise some provoking questions:

• Are we better as individuals when we have had to suffer hardships and adversity? Is there more to be gained from a life of struggle than from a life of ease and comfort? If so, should we then seek ways to push ourselves out of our comfort zones?
  
  
• Who are the homeless, really? Are they, for the most part, people who live in poverty by choice, and ultimately would not want to live any other way? Or are they, mostly, people who are truly unable to provide for themselves?
  
  
• Why did Walls's parents, with all their amazing intellect and ability, reject opportunity after opportunity to integrate normally into society? Why didn't their parental instinct to care for their children trump their renegade values?
  
  
• In a time where over-protective parenting is perhaps the more common trend among sensible parents, were there any worthwhile parenting values promoted by the mother, Rose Mary Walls?

The Glass Castle will make you think about all these things and more.

And if you're like me, when you've finished the book, you'll be awed by how unusually intelligent the parents were and you'll be inspired by some of the valuable life-lessons they imparted; but mostly, you'll be astonished and grieved at what these children suffered and conquered. And, you'll fully admire, maybe even covet, the grit, endurance and courage they developed as a result of their circumstances.

perspective

Just when I need it, a song with a resounding dose of perspective.

The last two sentences, for me, are piercing: "I see the Man of Sorrows and his long troubled road; I see the world on his shoulders and my easy load..."

My easy load. Freedom. Health. Family. Friends.

So many have been faithful with far, far less. In bondage. Under persecution. Diseased. Tortured.

Yet faithful.

How I admire them.

... and when the Saints go marching in,
I want to be one of them...



When the saints
Lord I have a heavy burden of all I've seen and know
It's more than I can handle
But your word is burning like a fire shut up in my bones
and I cannot let it go

And when I'm weary and overwrought
with so many battles left unfought

I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard
I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars
And when the Saints go marching in I want to be one of them

Lord it's all that I can't carry and cannot leave behind
but your word has compelled me
when I think of all who've gone before me and lived the faithful life

And when I'm weary and overwrought
with so many battles left unfought

I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard
I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars

I see the shepherd Moses in the Pharohs court
I hear his call of freedom for the people of the Lord

And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them

I see the long quiet walk along the Underground Railroad
I see the slave awakening to the value of her soul
I see the young missionary and the end of the spear
I see his family returning with no trace of fear
I see the long hard shadows of Calcutta nights
I see the sisters standing by the lepers side
I see the young girl huddled on the brothel floor
I see the man with a passion come and kicking down the door
I see the man of sorrows and his long troubled road
I see the world on his shoulders and my easy load

the way you make me feel

Feels a little wrong to use a Michael Jackson song to headline a post about Beethoven and Out of Africa.

Last night I watched Out of Africa for the first time. I cried. It's one of those movies that somehow leaves you wanting more of whatever it is that evokes such intensity. Which was unrequited love. Of course, I don't really want that. Unrequited love sucks. That's why I got married.

The movie tells a simple story, really, set against the breathtaking backdrop of the African wilderness and a coffee plantation. He is elusive, solitary, the spirit of Africa. She symbolizes civilization, of the land, the native children, and him. While I was melancholy at the movie's end, I wasn't sure for whom. Her, because he was always just out of reach? Or him, because when he ultimately is tamed, it leads to his demise? Regardless, it's one of those beautifully haunting movies that will be added to my list of favorites because it transported me... made me feel.

Which brings to mind a quote from Beethoven in the movie Immortal Beloved. Answering his own question, 'What does music do?' he says, "It is the power of music to carry one directly into the mental state of the composer. The listener has no choice. It is like a hypnotism.... 'This is how it feels....' the music is saying. 'Not how you are used to being, not how you are used to thinking, but like this.'"

Thank God, truly, for music and movies and books ...