Looking Back

One year ago today, I shut myself into our SUV and sobbed as we drove away from the dearest faces on earth. I followed the square yellow truck northwards, through sleepy Southern towns and flooding Georgia cities, through awe-inspiring mountain passes and quiet peaceful forests. And finally, Maryland. 

A year later, I'm back, and I'm so much richer than I was but one year ago. I've gained more dear, darling faces that I weep to leave. I've gained another home in the beautiful hills of Maryland. I've gained stories of my King's faithfulness and love in times of deepest struggle. I'm back, and I'm blessed. 

One song rings through my mind as I look back on the eighteenth year of my life, the hardest, most painful and the best, most beautiful year of my life. One song in particular that looks backward and marries the tears and the pain with the joy and the hope found only in God.

I never have and never will walk alone.

Standing on this mountaintop

Looking just how far we’ve come

Knowing that for every step

You were with us

Kneeling on this battle ground

Seeing just how much You’ve done

Knowing every victory

Was Your power in us

Scars and struggles on the way

But with joy our hearts can say

Yes, our hearts can say

Never once did we ever walk alone

Never once did You leave us on our own

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Kneeling on this battle ground

Seeing just how much You’ve done

Knowing every victory

Was Your power in us

Scars and struggles on the way

But with joy our hearts can say

Never once did we ever walk alone

Carried by Your constant grace

Held within Your perfect peace

Never once, no, we never walk alone

Never once did we ever walk alone

Never once did You leave us on our own

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Every step we are breathing in Your grace

Evermore we’ll be breathing out Your praise

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

(Never Once, Matt Redmon)

Happiness

From my notes today:

I heard a song today called "Happily Ever After." It felt so right for what I've been mulling over recently. As my future looms ahead, my future as a student away from home, as an adult, as a woman, I keep wondering what my life will look like in the next five years. So much promises to change. What will my story be?

I ask with the singer, "Will I be happy?"

But what has consumed my thoughts so much recently is the "what if" that hovers in the corner of the room -- what if I'm not? What if my little jar of hopes and dreams shatters before me and none of my dreams come true? I'll never be happy, right?

Wrong. My happiness is up to me. Why would I limit myself to happiness only if this? Only if I get this and that?

I will be happy, because happiness is a choice, one that I alone can make.

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

Hark the herald angels sing,

"Glory to the newborn King;

Peace on earth, and mercy mild,

God and sinners reconciled!"

Joyful, all ye nations rise,

Join the triumph of the skies;

With th' angelic host proclaim,

"Christ is born in Bethlehem!"

Hark! The herald angels sing,

"Glory to the newborn King!"

Christ, by highest Heav'n adored;

Christ the everlasting Lord;

Late in time, behold Him come,

Offspring of a virgin's womb.

Veiled in flesh the Godhead see;

Hail th' incarnate Deity,

Pleased as man with men to dwell,

Jesus our Immanuel.

Hark! The herald angels sing,

"Glory to the newborn King!"

Hail the heav'nly Prince of Peace!

Hail the Sun of Righteousness!

Light and life to all He brings,

Ris'n with healing in His wings.

Mild He lays His glory by,

Born that man no more may die.

Born to raise the sons of earth,

Born to give them second birth.

Hark! The herald angels sing,

"Glory to the newborn King!"

A Medley

the sleigh bells and silver bells

are ringing ding-a-dong,

so merrily on high,

and all the children are snuggling up in bed

dreaming of sugar plum fairies

and tannenbaums and white Christmases,

and the merry gentlemen are resting

in the hope of the babe, the son of Mary,

and thoughts are a-turning

to the little town of Bethlehem,

to that (not so) silent night,

to the the child away in a manger,

and the the herald angels are heard on high,

singing gloria! gloria! in excelsis deo! hark!

and the faithful, joyful, triumphant are gathering

on this night divine to sing hallelujah,

for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.

Memory and Time

Memories we share together, moments no one else can know.

I will keep them close to me, never let them go.

Ten years have passed since my arrival in this wonderful place I call home. In those ten years I have gained such invaluable friendships, treasured such beautiful moments, and fallen in such deep love. For some, ten years is but another decade in this inevitable cycle we call life, but these ten years have been crucial, are irreplaceable, and will never be forgotten. 

Of all horrid things, leave-taking is the worst.

Good-bye is so hard -- but I'm not saying, "Good-bye." I'm saying, "See you later!"

It's just ten months... Then, I'll be home.

Home.

No place like it.

Today's Meditations

Every lash of the whip

Every stroke of the hammer upon

Every nail

Every insult You bore

Every minute You hung

Between heaven and hell

Every thorn in Your crown

Every tear on Your back

Every drop of Your blood

Was for me

Oh it was all for me

Oh glory to Your holy name

For the distance that you came

To bear my guilt and take my blame to save me

From heaven to the cross of pain

Oh! the distance that you came

So I will love you without shame

You saved me, You saved me

Choruses of "For Me" and "Across the Great Divide" by Sovereign Grace Music and Nap Records

Minnie the Moocher

My family has lately settled down in the evenings to enjoy the wit and charm of A&E's adaptation of Jeeves and Wooster, stories created by P.G. Wodehouse. How I have lived thus far without Wooster's frivolous friends (bearing nick-names like Gussie Fink-Nottle and Barmy Fungy-Phipps) or Jeeves' dry, "feudal spirit" and abhorrence of trendy fashion, I will never understand.

Below is one of my (many) favorite clips from the series. Though difficult to see in this YouTube version, Jeeves' persistence with the respectful title, "sir," forces a laugh out of me every time.

Minnie the Moocher as sung by Bertie Wooster

May this cheery song brighten your Monday!

It Is Not Death to Die

It is not death to die

To leave this weary road

And join the saints who dwell on high

Who've found their home with God.

It is not death to close

The eyes long dimmed by tears

And wake in joy before Your throne

Delivered from our fears.

O Jesus, conquering the grave

Your precious blood has the power to save.

Those who trust in You

Will in Your mercy find

That it is not death to die.

It is not death to fling

Aside this earthly dust

And rise with strong and noble wing

To live among the just.

It is not death to hear

The key unlock the door

That sets us free form mortal years

To praise you evermore.

Currently, I'm musing over the glorious hope of my Eternal Home. How I cannot wait to throw off these earthly shackles and take up my residence there! Living in light of eternity, with that beautiful rest ahead of me, that shining promise, keeps my mind focused on "things that are above." After all, they're far pleasanter to think about, aren't they?

O Holy Night

O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining,

It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining.

Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!

O night divine, O night when Christ was born;

O night, O night, O night divine.

Led by the light of Faith serenely beaming,

With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.

So led by the light of a star sweetly gleaming

Here come the wise men from Orient and.

The King of Kings lay thus in lowly manger;

In all our trials born to be our friend.

He knows our need, the our weakness is no stranger,

Behold your King! Before Him lowly bend!

Behold your King! Before Him lowly bend!

Truly He taught us to love one another;

His law is love and His gospel is peace.

Chains shall he break for the slave is our brother;

And in His name all oppression shall cease.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,

Let all within us praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,

His power and glory evermore proclaim.

His power and glory evermore proclaim.

Loverly

All I want is a room some where,

Far away from the cold night air

With one enormous chair.

How wouldn't it be loverly!

Oh! How loverly sitting abso-blooming-lutely still!

I would never budge 'til spring crept over the windowsill!

Someone's head resting on my knee,

Warm and tender as he can be,

Who takes good care of me.

How wouldn't it be loverly!

Loverly, loverly!

~ Frederick, Loewe, My Fair Lady ~

Just Keep Swimming...

Well, they're all swimming around in my brain right now:

"You're no match for my brains!" - Vizzini

Nothing like Princess Bride! :)

"There is no love more sincere than the love of food." - Carrabba's bag

I love this. I just do.

"Hou! Cio-Cio-San!" - Friends and Relatives

After performing in a concert version of Madama Butterfly, this, and other quotes, have been ringing.... and ringing and ringing! :|

An Evening's Labors

Christian Parallels

May It Be

Composed and Performed by Enya

Lyrics by Roma Ryan

May it be an evening star

Shines down upon you

May it be when darkness falls

Your heart will be true

You walk a lonely road

Oh! How far you are from home

Mornie utulie (darkness has come)

Believe and you will find your way

Mornie alantie (darkness has fallen)

A promise lives within you now

May it be the shadow's call

Will fly away

May it be your journey on

To light the day

When the night is overcome

You may rise to find the sun

Mornie utulie (darkness has come)

Believe and you will find your way

Mornie alantie (darkness has fallen)

A promise lives within you now

What a glorious thing Christian-scopes are! By Christian-scopes I mean a Christian worldview, a Christian microscope, lenses to view and interpret the world through. When I sing this song, not in anyway comparable to Enya, mind you, I sing it with so much feeling behind it, for I see such blatant Christian values in it. Do you?

A promise lives within you now.

Music and Children

(Lady at the Piano, Pierre-Auguste Renoir)

Apparently there are elements that symbolize the feelings of people -- people of any time and of any place. Great music ennobles and inspires and gives listeners a sense of the dignity of man. People feel a bond of understanding with the men who wrote it, regardless of how long ago this might have been. Children of all ages are capable of sensing the height of feeling to which great music can lend them. - Jane Reynolds

I feel we should play most music without comment, so that children may be free to have thoughts about it in their own way. They can have the creative experiences of discovering how it makes them feel rather than being told what they should feel. - Karen Andreola

Even in their short, young lives, children are preservers of music. They are song keepers, and they retain and maintain the music from their family and community experiences, rehearsing them from time to time, storing it for some future chance to share it. - Patricia Shehan Campbell

Children exposed to music without comment will automatically appraise it. - Jane Reynolds

The multiple effects of music are sometimes startling to realize, as it stimulates, sedates and motivates children. Music can settle down a child, as well as perk up another one. It can serve the timid and the thick-skinned, the serious and the happy-go-lucky and the restrained or repressed and the emotionally "unbridled." Through careful selection of music for playy, work and quiet times, we teachers can help empower children, instill in them a strength of spirit and prepare them to perform their waiting tasks with energy and even cheerful demeanors. - Patricia Shehan Campbell

Musical Appreciation, of course, has nothing to do with playing the piano. It used to be thought that 'learning music' must mean this, and it was supposed that children who had no talent for playing were unmusical and would not like concerts. But Musical Appreciation has no more to do with playing an instrument than acting has to do with an appreciation of Shakespeare, or painting with enjoyment of pictures. I think that all children should take Musical Appreciation and not only the musical ones. - Charlotte Mason

Breathe into Me

Here I sit, a young woman in a pastel nightgown with whole grain toast on a crystal plate perched on my lap. My English Breakfast tea in a Victoria and Albert reproduction mug rests upon a homemade Jane Austen coaster at my elbow. Even my pen has a Victorian floral print upon it. The only thing out of place is the music sailing along the wire channels from my iPod to my ears: RED, Breathe into Me.

I won't pretend that I don't like RED, 'cause I do. Some of their songs are so poignant and illustrative and -- what can I say? -- this Chopin, Debussy, Mozart loving music major likes their hard rock style. Nonetheless, it's not the music genre that hits me today as I eat breakfast: it's the words. They so accurately fit my feelings and lifestyle right now. I've been "ignoring [His] words" and "running away from [Him]" to the point that "I don't know myself."

Breathe into Me

And this is how it feels when I ignore the words you spoke to me,

And this is where I lose myself when I keep running away from you,

And this is who I am when, when I don't know myself anymore,

And this is what I choose when it's all left up to me.

Breathe your life into me, I can feel you

I'm falling, falling faster

Breathe your life into me, I still need you

I'm falling, falling

Breathe into me, breathe into me

And this is how it looks when I am standing on the edge

And this is how I break apart when I finally hit the ground

And this is how it hurts when I pretend I don't feel any pain

And this is how I disappear when I throw myself away

Breathe your life into me, I can feel you

I'm falling, falling faster

Breathe your life into me, I still need you

I'm falling, falling

Breathe into me, breathe into me!

"I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent. Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches." Revelation 3:15-22

The Lord, Our God

As the rain issues its customary pattering on our library's skylight, I sit here at the computer finishing a few final tasks and enjoying my last little holiday before school begins again. A song serenely floats from the speakers of the computer to my ears, and its words prick my interest. The Lord our God is with us; the Lord our God reigns. Two simple little phrases with such glorious truth ringing in them.

The God of creation and Writer of history reigns over this world with might, power, majesty, and holiness. And yet, he chooses to be right beside each one of us, mere creatures of His imagination. He desires relationship with His servants.

Is there anything more humbling or praiseworthy?

Luther on Music

I truly desire that all Christians would love and regard as worthy the lovely gift of music, which is a precious, worthy, and costly treasure given to mankind by God.

Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world. It controls our thoughts, minds, hearts, and spirits.

The precious gift has been given to man alone that he might thereby remind himself that God has created man for the express purpose of praising and extolling God.

I found these quotes of Martin Luther's interesting recently. The mysteries of music intruige me greatly. It's amazing how music speaks to us as human beings. A song carries memories, provokes emotions, fixes thoughts. Some of my darkest moments have been lightened by a song that comes to mind. I have memorized so much Scripture because it was put to song. Fascinating . . .

Of course, I love how Luther sums up his point. A bit, uh, passionate?

A person who gives this some thought and yet does not regard music as a marvelous creation of God, must be a clodhopper indeed and does not deserve to be called a human being; he should be permitted to hear nothing but the braying of asses and the grunting of hogs.

Well, that's that settled.

Waiting on the Lord

I'm waiting

I'm waiting on You, Lord

And I'm hopeful

I'm waiting on You, Lord

Though it is painful

But patiently, I will wait

I will move ahead, bold and confident

Taking every step in obedience

While I'm waiting, I will serve You

While I'm waiting, I will worship

While I'm waiting, I will not faint

I'll be running the race even while I wait

I'm waiting

I'm waiting on You, Lord

And I am peaceful

I'm waiting on You, Lord

Though it's not easy,

But faithfully, I will wait

Yes, I will wait

I will serve you while I'm waiting

I will worship while I'm waiting

I will serve you while I'm waiting

I will worship while I'm waiting on You, Lord.

-John Waller

This is my theme song right now. There is so much that I'm waiting on God for. Sometimes I feel stuck in the mire, like I cannot do anything until He pulls me onto the path. I'm tempted to be stagnant like the waters around me. But, I'm learning that even in the mire, I must serve, worship, and fight for His glory. Though I wait, I cannot sit, fruitless. Though I wait, I cannot be idle.

Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long. Psalm 25:5

Our soul waits for the LORD; he is our help and shield. Psalm 33:20

But for you, O LORD, do I wait; it is you, O LORD my God, who will answer. Psalm 38:15

Currently I Am

loving this and this,

beautiful, inspiring videos featuring some of my favorite

ladies and gentlemen,

practicing this song,

All the Better for Her from the Sense and Sensibility soundtrack,

and rejoicing in this:

"Tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it." -Anne Shirley

Oh, the rich, rich joys of period dramas!

Ramblings

And when I say ramblings, I really mean it. I composed this little entry while sitting outside with a little free time.

The trees are flowering; the sun is out.

Birds are chirping; spring is back.

It's amazing how the air on a Florida spring day is so wet and heavy you feel like you could wring the moisture out. The climate turns hot again. Te atmosphere's so thick, you feel as if you'll suffocate simply trying to breathe. And yet, for all these inconvenient elements, there's something lovely and comforting about Florida springs.

Because, for all its wetness, the air has an element of enveloping embraces to match the sun's kisses. The heat on a spring day isn't as intense or stifling as a summer one. And you never have to breathe in that thick air to the point of suffocation, for at just the right moment, a cool, soft breeze whisks it away and offers, thin, clean air.

Ah. Life truly is a beautiful gift. And so much lovelier it is when there are everyday miracles to wonder at and be grateful for. I stand amazed that people can live in the midst of such beauty and wonder and yet reject the Creator of it all, the Sustainer of life and nature.

Of course, I love the "big" things in life, too -- the pyramids, the Mona Lisa, Clair de Lune, Paris, the Great Wall. Yet, isn't it a blessing that while living life day to day and week to week, we can enjoy the glories of simple miracles -- a child's sandcastle, an absent-minded doodle, the melodious chirrup of birds, Ft. Payne, a picket fence.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Praise Him all creatures here below.

Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts.

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Amen.

The doxology. It's been ringing in my head for days now. Maybe because this single well-known, oft-sung chorus sums up so perfectly the overflow of a soul utterly filled with wonder at our amazing, generous God. He is indescribably perfect: perfect in form, perfect in deeds, perfect for me. People worry about finding "Mr. Perfect." I glory in the fact that I've found my Perfect One, my Redeemer.