My Home Sweet Home: Decorated with Family, Faith, and Photoshop

Decorated with Family, Faith, and Photoshop

An Easter Sunday Hymn: Thus Far the Lord Has Led Me On

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Christmas Cactus

On this Easter Sunday morning I’m thinking about Hope with a capital h, Hope you can hang your hat on and cling to in the dark. Take a moment to soak in the lyrics from this beautiful hymn written by Isaac Watts in 1707.

I can only imagine how many hearts they’ve comforted over the years.

Happy Easter—He is risen!

Thus Far the Lord Has Led Me On

Thus far the Lord hath led me on,
Thus far His power prolongs my days,
And every evening shall make known
Some fresh memorial of His grace.

Much of my time has run to waste,
And I, perhaps, am near my home;
But He forgives my follies past,
And gives me strength for days to come.

In vain the sons of earth or hell
Tell me a thousand frightful things
My God in safety makes me dwell
Beneath the shadow of His wings.

I lay my body down to sleep;
Peace is the pillow for my head;
While well appointed angels keep
Their watchful stations round my bed.

A New Normal

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Today begins a new normal for our family as my husband starts his new job; I feel like I sent off a child to a new school. He left home at 6 a.m. so Atlanta traffic could not making him late on Day 1.

Bryan not only lost his job of 17 years on April 3, but also the day-to-day interaction of co-workers who’d become friends. He didn’t dwell on it, but I know he felt it. He’d spent more waking hours of the work week with them than us for a long time.

Now we’re hitting the reset button on our Monday-Friday routines. In order to meet his 10:30 bedtime goal on the first night, we sacrificed our nightly binge of Turn: Washington’s Spies in favor of an early shower for him while I steamed wrinkles from his dress shirts.

I will miss our days together but I’m thankful we enjoyed them, unclouded (for the most part) by fears for our future. We think this new position is the best for him out of all the possibilities, and it wasn’t even available when the job search began.

Never doubt the Lord’s perfect timing.

Bryan has a deeper understanding of our days at home, although he mostly saw our summer schedule rather than the school year routine.

Three of the kids are out-of-town with friends and the remaining daughter just left for the day. It’s awfully quiet.

Is there an area of your life where you have to (or need to) hit the reset button and establish a new normal?

Dripping from the Cross: A Sunday Hymn

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Dripping from the Cross
I haven’t posted a Sunday Hymn in quite some time, but after spending the last few days at our annual singing school in Jasper, AL, they’re on my mind.

My kids love “Dripping from the Cross,” a hymn by L.B. Leister (1885-1968), and our 17-year-old daughter has led it in congregational singing more than once at singing school.

For me, the imagery is blunt, the words raw. I have trouble singing this one without tears.

I got a grammar lesson while typing it. I recently discussed the use of ’til, till, and until with my two youngest daughters and it turns out I was wrong in some of what I told them. Oops. Old dog, new tricks.

Dripping from the Cross

Guilty nail-pierced holy vein,
Jesus bore the loss;
There was blood with holy pain,
Dripping from the cross.

Jesus, Thou hast loved us so,
Tho’ we be so gross;
Saved us by the living flow,
Dripping from the cross.

Sick and faint my soul did seem,
Poisoned by sin’s dross;
But relief came by the stream,
Dripping from the cross.

Tho’tless that for sin I owe,
Counted not my loss;
Grateful now to view the flow,
Dripping from the cross.

Wordly pleasures once my dream,
Tempted by their gloss;
Till I saw the scarlet stream,
Dripping from the cross.

All because He loved us so,
He sustained the crimson flow;
Keep my heart fixed on Thy woe,
Dripping from the cross.

Our Adorable Grandson

One of the highlights of singing school was spending time with our new grandson, who turns 3 months old today. Precious!

The Job Update

I keep telling my husband he’s almost employed; it sure seems so. I will shout it from the rooftops when it happens, but for now just know we are grateful for every prayer, kind comment, and email you’ve sent. It means a lot.

What Parenthood Can do for Your Walk with God

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blue hydrangea

One of the most important things I would tell a new or soon-to-be parent—or any parent—is that you need a healthy relationship with God. Sometimes parenting will bring your to your knees in despair and at others in prayer.

But do not be mistaken: it will bring your to your knees.

I’ve been working my way through the New Testament in my morning Bible study and when I finished Revelation last week, I decided to start over in Genesis. This morning I read Genesis 5 and the following verses struck me:

And Enoch lived sixty and five years, and begat Methuselah:
And Enoch walked with God after he begat Methuselah three hundred years, and begat sons and daughters:
And all the days of Enoch were three hundred sixty and five years:
And Enoch walked with God: and he was not; for God took him.
Genesis 5:21-24 (KJV)

Enoch lived to be 365 years old, but it says he walked with God for the 300 years after his son Methuselah was born. His walk changed after he became a father.

The fifth chapter of Genesis contains a genealogy stretching from Adam to Noah: the age of each man at the birth of his first son; how many years he lived afterwards (while continuing to have sons and daughters); the sum total of his years; and the final phrase “and he died.” All but Enoch.

Different versions say it different ways, but the meaning is the same: Enoch didn’t die. God took him away.

Hebrews 11:5 tells us: “By faith Enoch was translated that he should not see death; and was not found, because God had translated him: for before his translation he had this testimony, that he pleased God.” (KJV)

Here the verb translate means “to move from one place or condition to another”—in this case from earth to heaven, without experiencing death. In Genesis we are told Enoch walked with God and here we learn he pleased God.

Could we hope for higher praise?

Enoch’s lifespan of 365 years was much shorter than his near ancestors and descendants, who lived from 777 (Lamech) to 969 (Methuselah) years. If my math is correct, God took Enoch 69 years before his his great-grandson Noah was born, but I assume Enoch’s life—both how he lived it and how he left it—were the source of many family conversations.

I wonder at the impact of his life on Noah, who “found grace in the eyes of the Lord” at a time when man’s wickedness was so great that God sent a worldwide flood. (Genesis 6:5-8, KJV)

Imagine living in a way that could influence generations to come!