Psalms and Thanksgiving Thoughts

Psalm 100
Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.
Worship the Lord with gladness;
come before him with joyful songs.
Know that the Lord is God.
It is he who made us, and we are his;
we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.
Enter his gates with thanksgiving
and his courts with praise;
give thanks to him and praise his name.
For the Lord is good and his love endures
forever;
his faithfulness continues through all
generations.

Psalm 92:1-8
It is good to praise the Lord
and make music to your name, O Most High,
to proclaim your love in t he morning
and your faithfulness at night,
to the music of the ten-stringed lyre
and the melody of the harp
For you make me glad by your deeds, O Lord;
I sing for joy at the works of your hands.
How great are your works, O Lord,
how profound your thoughts!
The senseless man does not know,
fools do not understand,
that though the wicked spring up like grass
and all evildoers flourish,
they will be forever destroyed.
But you, O Lord, are exalted forever.

For What I'm Thankful:

(This is NOT a complete listing...)

I’m thankful for my mom’s amazing cooking
But I’m also thankful for the food that I’m given at college

I’m thankful for my own bed and room – both at home and school

I’m thankful for the warmth of my house – and my dorm room

I’m thankful for the peace and quiet at my own house

I’m thankful for the wonderful family of girls on my floor (and my incredible RA!)

I’m thankful for the love that my mom and dad give me
For the 9 months my mom spent carrying me
For the 18 years they spent raising me
For the 4 years of stress they endured as marching band parents
For the multiple years before that they were band parents and PTA parents
For daring to teach me to drive
For taking me out blueberry picking, hiking, camping in the rain, and riding four-wheelers
For letting me have a dog
For forcing me to do something whenever I didn’t want to do it
For making me try a tablespoon of everything
For being understanding that despite my intelligence and what my teachers say, I’ll always be slow to learn life lessons
For driving me to lessons, every week, taking up 3-4 hours of their time
For supporting my musical endeavors, even when they didn’t understand them
For always letting me know that no matter where I went or what I achieved, they would still love me

I’m thankful for the teaching and support I receive from the family of North Baptist

I’m thankful for the spontaneity that comes when Mr. Austin doesn’t know whether he wants the congregation to sit or stand during the service

I’m thankful for the wealth of literature that has been written and that I have the ability to partake of it

I’m thankful for the immense quantity of music that has been composed and that I have the opportunity to enjoy it

I’m thankful for the opportunities to enjoy the diversion that we have in this country

I’m thankful for all the teachers I’ve had in the past who have taught me more than textbooks alone could teach

I’m thankful for days of work and time of rest

I'm thankful for the 3 years I spent doing musical pits

I’m thankful for caffeine that helps when sleep is not accessible

I’m thankful for chocolate, which needs no explanation

I’m thankful for the amazing friends who have helped me through the hard times
Who have laughed at my jokes – good and bad
Who have planned out a variety of pranks when I was bored and needed a rush
Who know my faults but choose to be associated with me anyway
Who don’t leave me, even when I’m a grouch
Who are willing to confront me when I need it
Who take time to keep me humble
Who call me up, even when we’re miles apart
Who smile and beam when they see me
Who challenge the common standards and push the lines of reality in hope of a better world
Who dare to survive my driving
Who "argue" with me, merely for the sake of arguing
Who stay up late with me cramming for tests
Who stay up late with me, laughing away the pain and stress
Who come to me, asking nothing of me

I’m thankful for my past – the good parts and the bad—for it has made me who I am

I’m thankful for the community of believers at Houghton

I’m thankful for the wealth of knowledge I’ve obtained through the years of schooling

I'm thankful for the wonderful years I spent in field band

I’m thankful for everything I’ve learned around the lunch table

I’m thankful for the musical ability I’ve been given by God

I’m thankful for baking talent that my Grandma passed down to me

I’m thankful for the ability to care for the needs of others

I’m thankful for the gift of singleness

I’m thankful for my God
Who is sovereign above all
Who is the Alpha and Omega, Beginning and End
Who is Omnipotent, Omniscient, and Omnipresence
Who is the Creator of the universe
Who is the Judge of all
Who sent His Son, to bridge the gap that we created
Who bore my sins and inequities
Who took my place on the cross
Who was raised on the third day to take away the sting of death
Who knows me, yet loves me, when I don't even understand what that means
Who is my perfect heavenly Father
Who knows every step I take, even before I take
Who has a good and perfect plan for me
Who picks me up each time I fall
Who has a sense of humor and extreme amount of patience to put up with me
Who keeps revealing Himself to me at times and places I least expect
Who keeps chasing me, even when I want to run away
Who will never leave me nor forsake me
Who is my strength when I have none
Who is the great mystery – the Most Sovereign, choosing the lowest to be His children


Martin Rinkart was called to be the pastor of the Lutheran church in his hometown of Eilenberg, Germany. He arrived there just as the terrible bloodshed of the Thirty Years War was beginning. The city of Eilenberg was a walled city and it became the refuge for political and military fugitives. This, however, caused serious overcrowding, and deadly pestilence and famine swept through the city. Armies overran it three times, leaving death and destruction in their wake. The population of Germany went from 16 million to 6 million during this time.
The Rinkart home was a refuge for the victims, even though he was often hard-pressed to provide for his own family. In the year 1637 the plague was particularly severe. At its peak, Rinkart was the only pastor remaining in Eilenberg, conducting as many as 50 funerals in a day. He performed more than 4000 funerals in that year alone, including that of his beloved wife. It is in this setting that he wrote the famous hymn "Now Thank We All Our God", as a table hymn for his children. Circumstances do not determine our praise - no matter what happens, God is unchanging and still worthy of our adoration.


Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices,
Who wondrous things has done, in Whom this world rejoices;
Who from our mothers’ arms has blessed us on our way
With countless gifts of love, and still is ours today.

Oh, may this bounteous God through all our life be near us,
With ever joyful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us;
And keep us in His grace, and guide us when perplexed;
And guard us through all ills in this world, till the next!

All praise and thanks to God the Father now be given,
The Son and Him Who reigns with Them in highest Heaven;
The one eternal God, Whom earth and Heav’n adore;
For thus it was, is now, and shall be evermore.


Remember to ponder this, each day of the year : for what are you thankful?

40 Days

I was sitting here, trying to figure out how to write an update on what my life has been like since the last post. What I discovered, it that it's pretty much impossible to write down anything and have it actually be something coherent. This is when I turn to song lyrics. So to borrow from Third Day:


Here I am at what feels like the end
And so I come to You, my Lord, again
With this burden buried deep within
This heart that You have made
In this trial that I'm going through
I don't question 'cause I know it's true
That the sorrow brings me back to You
And You have made me stronger

It's been forty days and forty nights
Down the road of many trials
And I pray it's only for a season
'Cause in the wilderness and in the flood
You're the one I'm thinking of
And I know You've brought me for a reason

I have one more thing I've got to say
Before they try to take my life away
Let it be known that I am not afraid
Let You will be done, Lord

It's been forty days and forty nights
Down the road of many trials
And I pray it's only for a season
'Cause in the wilderness and in the flood
You're the one I'm thinking of
And I know You've brought me for a reason


Yep. That sums things up pretty nicely.

Where by Lisbeth Scott

From 'The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe' Soundtrack

Where
Lisbeth Scott

On this half lit day
With your crown beneath your wing
Every word just echoes
And the empty world sings

Where have you gone my feather light heart?
I never imagined I could leave.

In the glistening
Of the lost and open sky
Tiny piece of you sits
Simple wish waits for reply

Where have you gone my feather light heart?
You mustn't forget what love can see.

The Death of Passion

I have always hated boxes. Defining people and sticking them in a box that you've constructed in your mind serves no great purpose. Of all the champions against boxes, I am one of them.



At least, I was.



I didn't want people to put me in a box. I hated the stigma that came when I told people "I'm a music major" when I first came to campus. Unconsciously, I decided to avoid being boxed in. I thought that was what I wanted, and what I needed. To take time to discover myself and explore things before settling down into my character. That was why I was going to college.



I miss those boxes.



All of the sudden, I'm free from the boxes of my past. I can define myself. But I no longer have that desire. There was security that came with the labels I was given. I knew exactly what people thought of me, and I knew what sort of actions they would expect from me because of that label. So I would act accordingly, following my own passions, which then became the labels, and everything was in line and made sense. There was flexibility within those boxes - I never felt trapped.



I feel trapped now that I'm free.



I have come to a Christian liberal arts college to pursue a degree in music. All of my passions have been laid at my feet. Anything I ever loved, liked, or even had pleasant attitudes towards are there. I was never told I had to choose. I foolishly believed that I could continue to love all that I had before arriving.



It is lies.



Though I have a variety of classes, activities and friends, it is not the same. They all demand a part of me. But I cannot give myself away. I stand, looking at my past loves, and realize with horror.



There is no passion.



I feel no passion towards any of them anymore. Even the greatest loves are now cold to me. Where once I had been an intellectual, almost a Renaissance woman, I cannot bring any warm feelings for anything. There are still moments when there is nearly unbridled passion, and I can do anything. But they only spur me on for moments. Then I encounter that great sorrow, when I realize the mediocrity that has taken over my life. What good is it to have interest in a variety of areas if you cannot bring yourself to love any of them?



There was not a single decision that brought me to this place.



It has been those smaller, seemingly insignificant choices that have lead me here. It is the constraint brought on by having a mere 24 hours in a day that guided me to this place. Many can testify that I haven't overloaded myself with a overwhelming course and activity load. In comparison, my schedule is not bad at all. Yet the clock continues to tick, and I continue to fall farther behind, watching the colors turn to gray, fading.



Where do I go from here?



Do I dare ask the question I am longing to know : what do you think of me? What box have you put me in?



I am witnessing the death of passion.

Food for Thought...

To a Commencement of Scoundrels - Samuel Hazo

My boys, they lied to you.
The world by defintion stinks
of Cain, no matter what
your teachers told you. Heroes
and the fools of God may rise
like accidental green
on gray saharas, but the sand
stay smotheringly near.

Deny me if you can. Already
you are turning into personnel,
manpower, figures on a list
of earners, voters, prayers,
soldiers, payers, sums
of population tamed with forms:
last name, middle name, first name-
telephone-date of birth-

home address-age-hobbie-
experience. Tell them the truth.
Your name is Legion. You
are aged a million. Tell
them that. Say you breathe
between appoointments: first day,
last day. The rest is no
one's business. Boys, the time

is prime for prophecy.
Books break down their bookends.
Paintings burst their frames.
The world is more than reason's
peanut. Homer sang it real.
Goya painted it, and Shakespeare
staged it for the pelting rinds
of every groundling of the Globe.

Wake up! Tonight the lions
hunt in Kenya. They
can eat a man. Rockets
are spearing through the sky.
They can blast a mant to nothing.
Rumors prowl like rebellions.
They can knife a man. No one
survives for long, my boys.

Flesh is always in season,
lusted after, gunned, grenaded,
tabulated through machines,
incinerated, beaten to applause,
anesthetized, autopsied, mourned.
The blood of Troy beats on
in Goya's paintings and the truce
of Lear. Reason yourselves

to that, my buckaroos,
before you rage for God,
country and siss-boom-bah!
You won't, of course. Your schooling
left you trained to serve
like cocksure Paul before
God's lightning smashed
him from his saddle. So-

I wish you what I wish
myself: hard questions
and the nights to answer them,
the grace of disappointment
and the right to seem the fool
for justice. That's enough.
Cowards might ask for more.
Heroes have died for less.

Thoughts from a Prodigal

Until this past week, I never fully understand what it meant to be a prodigal. I always thought that the story of the prodigal son was meant for those believers who had really walked away from God, completely strayed from the faith. That was never me. Even in the worst moments of my life, I never totally left God. Sure, I would get angry, discontent and refuse to obey, but that didn't make me a prodigal. Or so I thought. I've decided that since I've come to college, God has had enough of all my foolish thoughts, and He's systematically destroying them. But being the stubborn person I am, He's been forced to hit me over the head with a 2x4....more than once. That's the story of my life, especially my spiritual walk. The worst part is when you realize that He's showing you something, you think you've got it all figured out, then you realize that He was actually teaching you something else entirely.

A few weeks ago, I thought God was teaching me to simply trust Him and to just be still and know.
Then I decided that, while that's a valuable lesson, God actually wanted me to learn to trust Him with my future and to just do what He wants me to do right now.
Once again, a lesson that needed to be learned, but most recently, I "discovered" it was actually that I just needed to have the faith of a child and not let everything get so complicated.

I think God's finally had enough.

First, I'm an idiot. Especially when it comes to God. I yell and scream at Him, try to figure Him out, and in the end, all that happens is that I realize that I'm an idiot. When you try too hard to look for the lessons of your life when you're in the middle of the storm, you just complicate things. It's the moment when you actually stop fighting Him that you realize where you went wrong.

Which brings me back to being a prodigal.

Being a prodigal doesn't mean that you've utterly left God. It doesn't mean that you've disowned Him. We become a prodigal child anytime we don't follow Him. Just like there aren't degrees of sin, there aren't degrees of leaving God. When we don't obey Him, are we really doing any better than a person who has lost faith? In our own way, we've lost faith. We've refused to trust Him and His commands.

If we continue on that path, He'll find a way to get through. That's the lesson He was teaching me. That I needed to stop fighting. All those other lessons were mere subsets of the larger picture. If we try to learn those lessons on our own without His help, or we simply refuse to be taught, He'll find a way to get through. He'll utterly crush us if that's what it takes.

There's a surprising peace after you've been crushed.

It's a peace that cannot be ignored. It rushed over you, drowning you within itself. It calms the trembling, it eases the hurt. It lifts you up. Once again, you are in your Father's arms. From there, who would want to run?

God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing. C. S. Lewis