The Story Behind the Song

I always love reading about classic hymns and carols and the stories of their inspiration and origins. Hymns like It Is Well with My Soul come out of tragedy and heartbreak, but the message they bring has lived on long after the writers have gone to glory.

The carol I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day has a similar story that I found recently. I’ve copied and pasted it and included the link to the original post:

“On Christmas Day in 1863, the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow listened to the bells from a nearby church, overwhelmed by loss.

Two years earlier, his wife had burned to death in a fire, and he had also been badly burned trying to save her. At times, his grief was so great that he feared that he would be sent to an asylum.

His son had also been wounded in the Civil War and was temporarily paralyzed. As he listened to the church bells, Longfellow wrote a poem that reflected his grief:

‘In despair,’ he wrote, ‘I bowed my head. There is no peace on earth, I said.’

But he ended the poem, which was later put to music, on a note of triumph.

‘Then rang the bells more loud and deep
God is not dead, nor doth He sleep
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on Earth, good will to men’

This Christmas Day will be 161 years….and the song still brings the same sense of settledness and confident hope to millions across the globe!

Do you hear the bells!! Open up your heart and hear them this Christmas!!”

An Advent Prayer Repeat

Lord Jesus, Master of both the light and the darkness,

send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas.

We who have so much to do seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day.

We who are anxious over many things look forward to your coming among us.

We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom.

We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence.

We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light.

To you we say,

“Come Lord Jesus!” (Henri Nouwen)

I’m sure I posted this previously at some point, but I needed to read it again. We all need reminding that ultimately it’s not about all the gifts or decorations. It’s not about getting the house just right for the holidays when friends and family come over.

It’s about preparing our hearts to receive the Christ-child. It’s remembering that Jesus didn’t wait until our homes were spotless and our lives were together before He came. He didn’t make sure that we had cleaned up from all our addictions and struggles before He entered the world on that night.

He came to us to love us as we are but to show us how He can transform us to be just like Him, just like He called people when they were prostitutes and tax collectors and reprobates but when He was finished with them they were disciples.

Even now, Christ comes to those who are weakest, who are the least put together, whose need is greatest. He comes not for those who help themselves but for those who know beyond all doubt that they can’t. He comes for the unfaithful, the unworthy, and the undeserving. He comes for you and me.

Joy Is Coming

“Joys are always on their way to us. They are always travelling to us through the darkness of the night. There is never a night when they are not coming” (Amy Carmichael).

That’s the whole point of Advent, I think. It’s to remind us that there was a time before Christ, a world before God broke through into history and humanity and became a baby. There was a time of waiting and anticipation of the prophecies that foretold of a coming joy that would be for all the people.

That’s what Advent is all about. We wait with joy. On this side of the manger, we wait for the second coming when Jesus arrives not in a cradle but as a king, not as a lamb to be slain but as a lion to conquer.

Even in the darkest night, joy is still on the way. Even when hope seems lost and God seems furthest away, joy is getting closer and closer. In the midst of despair and death, joy is practically knocking on the door.

In this hurry up culture, we’ve relegated Christmas to one day out of the calendar year, but in ye olden days they made it into a 12 day celebration where people opened their gifts slowly, one per day, and savored the meaning of the incarnation and Emmanuel, God with us. I wish we could get back to that pace.

But even if all the decorations come down on December 26 or January 1, we can still hold on to the joy that Christmas brings. The hope doesn’t go away with the new year, but gets bigger and stronger and better as time passes. Just as the child born in the manger doesn’t live in our hearts only one day of the year but all the days of the year (from my favorite adaptation of A Christmas Carol).

Let’s not lose sight of joy in the midst of buying and wrapping and baking and decorating. The reason is that joy is almost here. God is with us. Jesus is coming soon.

Dropping the Needle

There’s really nothing like dropping the needle on a record to bring back instant memories of Christmas childhood days for me, especially when it’s something the family listened to back in the ye olden days referred to as the late 1900s.

It’s the physical act of positioning the record arm in just the right spot and letting it fall that does so much more than simply pressing play on a CD or cassette player. And don’t get me wrong. I still have CDs (but not really any cassettes).

For me, there are essentials when it comes to the Christmas experience. Seeing Behold the Lamb of God at the Ryman has to be one. Also, experiencing the lights at Opryland Hotel, as well as walking through the decorations at Cheekwood.

But I have my own list of movies and music that is essential to any proper Advent/Christmas season. Movies like It’s a Wonderful Life or White Christmas are always required viewing. Musically speaking, it’s not Christmas without Nat King Cole, A Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack, or Bing Crosby. There are more, but it would take too long to list everything.

I understand that you can just go to Spotify or Apple Music for a playlist, but it’s not the same. It doesn’t give me the nostalgia the way playing a record and then having to flip it over to get to the second side does.

As always, I welcome your favorite Christmas movies or albums, so please comment and list your essentials. And thanks again for being faithful readers of these posts. That means the world to me.

Nothing Shall Be Impossible

“And, behold, thy cousin Elisabeth, she hath also conceived a son in her old age: and this is the sixth month with her, who was called barren. For with God nothing shall be impossible” (Luke 1:36-37, KJV).

I went to check out the Ice! exhibit and to see the lights at the Opryland Hotel. It hit me in all the right feels as it does every year. I always love seeing the grand old hotel decked up in festive lights and decorations.

On my bucket list is to stay a night in that hotel, preferably in a room overlooking the Delta atrium and ideally around Christmas time. After that, I think I could just about die and go to heaven. But maybe not right away.

But anyway, back to the story. There’s a nativity setup outside the front of the hotel that I always visit. There’s a narrator over a loudspeaker reading from the Christmas story in Luke 1-2. Probably because of public domain, it’s in the ye old King James. Plus, I’m sure everybody over a certain age remembers Linus reciting the passage in A Charlie Brown Christmas.

This year, the line that hit me was about how Mary’s cousin Elizabeth was in her sixth month. She had previously been unable to conceive or bear children, and back in those days it was shameful to not have children.

So I love where it says that she who was previously known by her shame was now known by being the miraculous mother of a boy who would be the forerunner of the Messiah. I mean how cool is that?

Somehow, the ol’ KJV rendering hit me more forcefully this time: nothing shall be impossible with God. Any promise He’s ever made is as good as done. Any dream He’s put in your heart or desire He’s planted in you will come to pass because there’s no such thing as impossible to God.

I always love what I heard a pastor say once that what seems impossible to us isn’t even remotely difficult for God. You might say He specializes in making the impossible possible.

So I snapped my usual 1,000 photos, ate my pizza from Paisano’s, got in my 10,000 steps, and a good time was had by all. Even the weather cooperated.

And I was reminded yet again of the faithfulness of God. How many more times will it take, Lord, before I finally get it? Maybe just one more.

The Funeral of Your Own Independence

“The things that are right, noble, and good from the natural standpoint are the very things that keep us from being God’s best. Once we come to understand that natural moral excellence opposes or counteracts surrender to God, we bring our soul into the center of its greatest battle. The cost to your natural life is not just one or two things, but everything. Beware of refusing to go to the funeral of your own independence” (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest).

A lot of what passes for Christianity is simply behavior modification. Back in the day, there were a lot of don’ts. Don’t drink, don’t gamble, don’t play cards, don’t dance, etc. As one pastor put it, we’d get to church on Sunday and celebrate that we hadn’t done anything.

But Christianity is a lot more than being moral. If you want to play that game, the standard is impossibly high, as in be perfect as God in heaven is perfect. Simply put, you can’t be good enough. But Jesus could. And Jesus was.

Christianity is not behaving better. It’s not being an upstanding citizen or a good moral human being. It’s about surrender. It’s about dying to self. It’s about letting God form the Christ-life within you and make you more like Jesus.

As my friend says, it’s not about making bad people good. It’s about making dead people alive. It’s about being transformed rather than just upgraded. And Christmas is the season where we celebrate the hope that means that we can be better or more improved but made brand new.

A Wild Ending to My Weekend

Basically, tonight started off wacky, then worshipful, then wet. In that order.

To give a little context, I drove to downtown Nashville for the Behold the Lamb of God concert at the Ryman, hosted by Andrew Peterson. It’s a yearly Christmas tradition that never disappoints.

On the way, I parked at the Music City Center because it’s cheap and close. When I stopped to get the ticket for parking, I went to drive into the garage and my car wouldn’t budge. I yelled and screamed at my car and it would not go. It was running, but refused to go. I was about at my wits’ end.

Then I realized that my door wasn’t shut. That was all. I closed the door and drove in. I think in this case my car was smarter than I was. At least in that moment.

The concert was as good or better than any of the previous ones I’ve seen. Jill Phillips singing Labor of Love is alone worth the price of admission. That line about “the baby in her womb He was as the maker of the moon He was the author of the faith That could make the mountains move” still gives me the good chills.

We closed singing the doxology and then I stepped out into pouring rain. By the time I got back to my car, I was soaked, even with my rain jacket. The drive home was mostly uneventful, even if driving in the rain at night is probably my least favorite pastime.

But I made a friend tonight. Her name is Jodi and she drove in from Colorado Springs for the concert, which makes me feel not so bad about driving from Brentwood. She said they were driving back tonight. I don’t envy her that trip in the rain, but I’m praying for safe travels.

I was reminded of someone who also made a journey much further than mine. He came not from Brentwood or Colorado Springs, but from very heaven itself to a tiny town called Bethlehem, all for the love of you and me. All the songs tonight were about that God incarnate, Emmanuel. Once again, that gives me a little more perspective and gratitude.

I hope to do it all again this time next year. Well, most of it, anyway. Maybe not the car thing.

Fall On Your Knees

Tonight is a post from a sort of guest blogger. Basically, I saw something in a post that I knew needed to be shared and copied and pasted. It’s from three years ago and it spoke to my heart, so I hope it will speak to yours:

The words ‘the weary world rejoices’ have been on a constant replay in my mind today. I finally stopped long enough to figure out what song it comes from … ‘O Holy Night’. It’s not necessarily one of my most favorite Christmas songs to sing simply because as an alto I don’t prefer the key it’s often played in. I try to avoid making my vocal cords bleed from trying to sing notes I can’t hit! Nevertheless, I love hearing the song sung by sopranos and tenors. 😊

Once I remembered where the lyrics came from, I thought about the first words of the chorus … ‘fall on your knees’ … I’ve always interpreted those words to mean we should bow in reverence and awe to the Lord. I believe that’s what the author meant but I was struck by another thought. What if ‘fall on your knees’ is also an invitation for the weary soul to rest?

All is well. Our Salvation has come in the form of a baby. He is the One who will restore what has been broken. He is the only One who can offer “a thrill of hope” in a world full of “sin and error pining”. We no longer must strive to make things right. He has come to make all things new. We can fall on our knees in rest, worship, and restful worship.

Only then from that place of restful worship, will we be able to “hear the angels sing”. We will live from a place of Gospel-bought peace and live out His ‘law of love’. As Ann Voskamp says, ‘Peace is not the absence of problems, but the presence of God.’ Through His presence and peace, we can break the bondages we have been living in and join with fellow believers to “praise His holy name”.

Whether you are in a place of deep pain, all-encompassing grief, soul-weariness, or great joy, I am praying you can find the time to receive His invitation to rest, worship, and “praise His holy name”.

‘Then Jesus said, ‘Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light’. Matthew 11:28-30

Just a thought for this Tuesday in December” (Melody Amason).

Check this version out of “O Holy Night (Hear the Gospel Story)”. I love what they did with the other two verses and choruses. It’s incredible!

(Also from her post).

What Rocking Chair is This?

I had a bit of a surreal, random moment earlier today. I was at one of my favorite places in Nashville, the Rabbit Room. I was sitting in a rocking chair on the wraparound porch, basking in the blazing sun on a wintry day.

Suddenly, I heard a sound as if it were coming from a distance. It took me a while to place the melody — Greensleeves, or as it is more commonly known, What Child is This. Whatever it was sounded like either a trumpet playing low or a trombone playing high. I sat there and let the words fill my mind as the music played:

“What Child is this who, laid to rest
On Mary’s lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While the good shepherds watch are keeping?

This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste, to bring Him laud
The Babe, the Son of Mary

So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh
Come peasant, king to own Him
The King of kings salvation brings
Let loving hearts enthrone Him

This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste, to bring Him laud
The Babe, the Son of Mary

Raise, oh raise, the song on high
His mother sings her lullaby
Joy, oh joy, for Christ is born
The Babe, the Son of Mary

What Child is this
What Child is this (what Child is this)

This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste, to bring Him laud
The Babe, the Son of Mary” (William Chatterton Dix).

Advent needs to be a time of reflection rather than a time of rushing around. I get that people are busy, but if there’s no margin for marveling at the mystery of the incarnation, then we’re too busy. We’ve let too many unimportant things get in the way of the main thing.

So let us come and adore the Christ child this Advent season in the midst of all the buying and wrapping and decorating and baking. Let us remember He’s why we’re celebrating.