Christmas with the King

I ran across a Christmas poem that resonated with me deeply. This year, I have known people who have lost loved ones. I was blessed to be a part of a crew of deacons that went caroling Sunday at the homes of a couple of our widows.

This poem speaks to the Christmas experience of those who are no longer here with us. I think they’re probably having their best Christmas season ever. And the good news is that for them it never ends.

“Martha Bennett sent us this encouraging poem in a Christmas Card. Thanks Martha, Thanks for your encouragement.

I’m spending Christmas with Jesus this Year

I see the countless Christmas trees
Around the world below
With tiny lights like heavens stars
Reflecting on the snow

The sight is so spectacular,
Please wipe away that tear.
For I’m am spending Christmas
With Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs,
That people hold so dear.
But the sound of music can’t compare,
With the Christmas Choir up here.

For I have no words to tell you,
The joy their voices bring,
For it is beyond description,
To hear an angel sing.

I can’t tell you of the splendor,
Or the peace here in this place.
Can you just imagine Christmas,
With our Savior face to face?

Please let your hearts be joyful,
And let your spirit sing.
For I am spending Christmas in heaven,
And walking with the King!”

As Billy Graham said that when you hear he had died, it was not true. He had simply changed his address. That’s true for all those we love who aren’t here this year. They’ve simply changed their address, and their faith has been made sight.

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!!”

Homesick

I was listening to an 80s Truth record I picked up recently. I got to the song Homesick. It sounded vaguely familiar, but I felt I had heard or read the lyrics before very recently. Then I remembered I had seen a post with the very same song lyrics less than a week ago.

The song is the heartbeat of any believer who knows this world isn’t really home. A former pastor of mine once compared this life to a very nice, very clean bus station (or airport terminal, if you will). It’s not supposed to be your forever place to live, but a place to be until you can get to your forever home.

“They say home is where the heart is
And I’m finding out it’s true
‘Cause I long to be in heaven
Since my heart is there with You
Reading over letters
That You’ve written to me
Telling me of all You have in store
Makes me start to dreaming
Of the place I want to be
And I get that lonely feeling
Like so many times before

I get homesick
Longing for my home
And for Your open arms
Of lovе and comfort
Waiting for me there
I gеt homesick
Yearning for my home
And for the day
When all Your family
Gets together forever
Our eternal home sweet home

Lord, You living truth within me
Keeps me safe and warm
All its strength and all its beauty
Rise through every storm
Without its presence in my soul
I could not carry on
To face the many battles I find here
Lord, you keep the promises
I build my life upon
And as time goes by, I know
That I will always keep them near

I get homesick
Longing for my home
And for Your open arms
Of love and comfort
Waiting for me there
I get homesick
Yearning for my home
And for the day
When all Your family
Gets together forever
Our eternal home sweet home” (Larry Bryant, Lesa Bryant & Justin Peters).

It’s interesting to be homesick for a home we’ve never known, but that’s what it is. That’s why nothing here will ever completely satisfy the deep longing of our souls. Only God can do that. And our experience of God here is cloudy and partial. One day it will be clear and complete. We will know as we are fully known. And we will be truly home.

To All the Wallflowers in the World

perks

I finally broke down and rented The Perks of Being a Wallflower from Redbox. In case you were wondering, that was the infamous movie that I had a ticket for the night I got hit by that car in downtown Franklin. Yeah, that was the movie I missed. Well, I finally saw it, almost two months later.

One line really struck me. “We accept the love we think we deserve.”

I had always wondered why I saw nice, pretty girls who always seemed to date guys who struck me as obnoxious, loud jerks. I wondered why they did that when there were nice guys (like me) available.

You could argue that most of the nice guys (again like me) never got up the nerve to ask out the nice, pretty girls. But I do think that people who don’t think much of themselves will settle for relationships that aren’t the best for them.

In case you’re wondering if this is going to be yet another blog on dating, it’s not.

I wonder how many of us really know our own worth. We tend to repeatedly replay every minor criticism and downplay every compliment out of a false modesty that really isn’t modest at all. If you and I are honest, we don’t think much of ourselves most of the time and we project that on to how we perceive others to not like us or acknowledge us.

Maybe you think nobody ever sees you or feels your pain or even cares that you’re hurting. Maybe you wonder why you bother getting up in the morning only to spend the entire day being overlooked and ignored by everyone around you.

Let me remind you that God thought you worth loving. Well, let me rephrase that. God chose to love you because he wanted to and in loving you, he made you lovable and worth loving. Maybe that only makes sense if you’re tired and still awake after midnight, but there it is.

God formed you with his own hands, breathed his own breath into you, and called you very good. You are made in the image of God and there is no one else exactly like you. You are God’s poem, his masterpiece, his workmanship.

So whenever you are tempted in any way to settle for less than God’s very best, remember that you are worth loving because God said so. And anybody who says or acts otherwise doesn’t deserve you.

 

He giveth more grace (featuring a surprise guest blogger!)

Ok, not really. It’s still me, but I am including a bit of poetry (not mine) in this blog, because it so profoundly affected me when I heard it tonight at Kairos Roots. Here it is. May it affect you like it did me and make you more thankful and grateful to our great God! Here is her story and then her poem will follow (I copied and pasted her story. Shh! Don’t tell anyone!)

“Annie Flint was born in the Johnston home where she lost her mother, then shortly after lost her father too and was raised by the Flint family. After she graduated from college, she contracted arthritis in one of its most crippling forms and lay in bed for not one or two years, but for decades of her life. And if that wasn’t bad enough she lost control of her internal organs and to her utter embarrassment had to live on diapers for many years of her life. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough she began to become blind and cancer began to take its toll…according to one eyewitness, who wrote a book(called Making of the Beautiful), the last time he saw her, she had seven pillows cushioning her body from keeping the sores from inflicting indescribable agony.

In the midst of all that, she wrote this beautiful poem:

‘He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added affliction He addeth His mercy;
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

His love has no limit; His grace has no measure.
His pow’r has no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!'”

Annie Johnson Flint