1. A stable lamp is lighted whose glow shall wake the sky; the stars shall bend their voices, and every stone shall cry. And every stone shall cry, and straw like gold shall shine; a barn shall harbour heaven, a stall become a shrine.
2. This child through David’s city shall ride in triumph by; the palm shall strew its branches, and every stone shall cry. And every stone shall cry, though heavy, dull and dumb, and lie within the roadway to pave his kingdom come.
3. Yet he shall be forsaken, and yielded up to die; the sky shall groan and darken, and every stone shall cry. And every stone shall cry for gifts of love abused; God’s blood upon the spearhead, God’s blood again refused.
4. But now, as at the ending, the low is lifted high; the stars shall bend their voices, and every stone shall cry. And every stone shall cry in praises of the child by whose descent among us the worlds are reconciled. ~Richard Wilbur
Feeling heavy, dull and dumb,
I could be convinced
I’m no more than a simple rock
among a multitude of rocks~
inconsequential and immobile,
trod upon and paved over,
forgettable and forgotten.
I could believe
there exists no pulse
in my stony heart.
I could believe
I am incapable of love
if I turn away
from a God descending to walk
on the same humble ground where I lie.
Yet even the low are lifted high by His descent–
every stone,
even the dumb and lifeless,
shall cry out in community with Him,
even the silent will find a voice to praise.
Even my own voice,
meager and anemic,
shall be heard.
Even a barn can harbor heaven,
straw a bed of spun gold,
a stall becomes a shrine.
I am no longer forgotten.
In fact, never forgotten.
So hard to reconcile,
if the stones and barn and stalls
have known all along,
so should I.
Oh, to see the dawn Of the darkest day: Christ on the road to Calvary. Tried by sinful men, Torn and beaten, then Nailed to a cross of wood.
CHORUS: This, the pow’r of the cross: Christ became sin for us; Took the blame, bore the wrath- We stand forgiven at the cross.
Oh, to see the pain Written on Your face, Bearing the awesome weight of sin. Ev’ry bitter thought, Ev’ry evil deed Crowning Your bloodstained brow.
Now the daylight flees; Now the ground beneath Quakes as its Maker bows His head. Curtain torn in two, Dead are raised to life; “Finished!” the vict’ry cry.
Oh, to see my name Written in the wounds, For through Your suffering I am free. Death is crushed to death; Life is mine to live, Won through Your selfless love.
This, the pow’r of the cross: Son of God-slain for us. What a love! What a cost! We stand forgiven at the cross. ~Keith Getty and Stuart Townend
I want Jesus to walk with me I want Jesus to walk with me All along my pilgrim journey I want Jesus to walk with me
In my trial, Lord, walk with me In my trials, Lord, walk with me When the shades of life are falling Lord, I want Jesus to walk with me
In my sorrow, Lord walk with me In my sorrows, Lord walk with me When my heart is aching Lord, I want Jesus to walk with me
In my troubles, Lord walk with me In my troubles, Lord walk with me When my life becomes a burden, Lord, I want Jesus to walk with me ~Spiritual
What more can I hope for
than to never be alone
in my fears, my worries, my troubles, my burdens,
when my heart aches with the joy
that God is here, with me, for me,
and I am here, with Him, for Him,
because of Him.
Peace be to you and grace from Him Who freed us from our sin Who loved us all, and shed his blood That we might saved be.
Sing holy, holy to our Lord The Lord almighty God Who was and is, and is to come Sing holy, holy Lord.
Rejoice in heaven, all ye that dwell therein Rejoice on earth, ye saints below For Christ is coming, Is coming soon For Christ is coming soon.
E’en so Lord Jesus quickly come And night shall be no more They need no light, no lamp, nor sun For Christ will be their All! ~Paul Manz
Imagine that
which transforms sorrows,
banishes the night
so darkness flees.
It is that
of which I sing,
that about which I rejoice,
that which bought me
and set me free.
His love is all.
That which was, is and will be
has risen.
Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home,– Lead thou me on! Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene,–one step enough for me.
O lux aeterna, lead thou me on O lux beata, lead, kindly light, lead me on So long thy power has blest me, sure it still Will lead me on
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou Shouldst lead me on: I loved to choose and see my path, but now Lead thou me on! I loved the garish days, and, spite of fears, Pride ruled my will: remember not past years.
So long thy power hath blessed me, sure it still Will lead me on; O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till The night is gone; And with the morn those angel faces smile Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile. ~John Henry Newman
Lead, kindly light, amidst the grey and gloom The night is long and I am far from home Here in the dark, I do not ask to see The path ahead–one step enough for me Lead on, lead on, kindly light.
I was not ever willing to be led I could have stayed, but I ran instead In spite of fear, I followed my pride My eyes could see, but my heart was blind Lead on, lead on, kindly light.
And in the night, when I was afraid Your feet beside my own on the way Each stumbling step where other men have trod shortens the road leading home to my God Lead on, lead on, my God, my God, lead on, lead on, kindly light. ~Audrey Assad inspired by Ven. John Henry Cardinal Newman’s poem of the same name
Waking up in a storm-tossed night,
in pitch blackness, realizing the power has gone out,
and the bedside flashlight is not where it should be~
the familiar path to bathroom and kitchen
becomes obstacle course,
full of places to trip
and stub toes
and bump heads.
Illumination for only the next step
is all I need.
A small circle of light that shows
where to safely put my foot.
You, Lord, step alongside me
You, Lord, make the dark less fearsome
You, Lord, are that safe and kindly light
that never goes out.
2014 Easter Sunrise Service at BriarCroft — Sunday, April 20 at 7 AM
(formerly Walnut Hill Farm)
When we purchased Walnut Hill Farm from the Morton Lawrence family in 1990, part of the tradition of this farm was a hilltop non-denominational Easter sunrise service held here for the previous 10+ years. We have continued that tradition, with an open invitation to families from our surrounding rural neighborhood and communities, as well as our church family from Wiser Lake Chapel, to start Easter morning on our hill with a worship service of celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
At our annual Easter Sunrise Service in Whatcom County, we develop a different Easter theme each year through use of scripture readings and songs, led by Dan Gibson. We sit on hay bales on the hill for the worship service, followed by breakfast of cinnamon rolls, hot chocolate and coffee in our barn. As many of the people who attend come from some distance from all over the county, we try to conclude by 8 AM so they may have time to get to morning church services.
thank you to Chris Lovegren for the four photos above of Sunrise Service 2012
We invite all to come to our farm to participate in this traditional service of celebration. Please dress warmly with sturdy shoes as you will be walking through wet grass to reach the hilltop. Bring heavy blankets or sleeping bags to wrap up in if it is a chilly morning. In case of rain, we meet in the big red hay barn on the farm, so we never cancel this service.
If you would like more information and directions to our farm at 1613 Central Road, between Hannegan and Noon Road, please email us at emily@briarcroft.com
His voice, as the sound of the dulcimer sweet,
Is heard through the shadows of death;
The cedars of Lebanon bow at His feet,
The air is perfumed with His breath.
His lips as the fountain of righteousness flow,
That waters the garden of grace,
From which their salvation the Gentiles shall know,
And bask in the smiles of His face.O! Thou in Whose presence my soul takes delight,
On Whom in affliction I call;
My Comfort by day,
And my Song in the night,
My Hope, my Salvation, my All?
Where dost Thou at noontide resort with Thy sheep,
To feed on the pastures of love?
Say, why in the valley of death should I weep,
Or ‘lone in the wilderness rove?
O! why should I wander an alien from thee,
And cry in the desert for bread?
Thy foes will rejoice when my sorrows they see,
And smile at the tears I have shed.
Ye daughters of Zion, declare,
Have you seen the Star that on Israel shone?
Say if in your tents my Belovèd hath been,
And where, with His flock, is He gone?
“What is thy Belovèd, thou dignified fair?
What excellent beauties hath He?
His charms and perfections be pleased to declare,
That we may embrace Him with thee.”
This is my Belovèd, His form is divine;
His vestments shed odor around;
The locks on His head are as grapes on the vine,
When autumn with plenty is crowned.
The roses of Sharon, the lilies that grow in the vales,
On the banks of the streams
On His cheeks in the beauty of excellence blow;
His eyes are as quivers of beams.
His voice as the sound of the dulcimer sweet is
Heard through the shadows of death;
The cedars of Lebanon bow at His feet,
The air is perfumed with His breath.
Read more at http://www.lyrster.com/lyrics/his-voice-as-the-sound-lyrics-mormon-tabernacle-choir.html#HhDxcEshh3JGXUG6.99
His voice, as the sound of the dulcimer sweet, is heard through the shadows of death; The cedars of Lebanon bow at His feet, the air is perfumed with His breath. His lips as the fountain of righteousness flow, that waters the garden of grace, From which their salvation the Gentiles shall know, and bask in the smile of His face.
Love sits in his eyelids and scatters delight, through all the bright regions on high. Their faces the cherubim veil in his sight, and tremble with fullness of joy. He looks and ten thousands of angels rejoice, and myriads wait for His word. He speaks and eternity filled with His voice Re-echoes the praise of the Lord.
He looks and ten thousands of angels rejoice, and myriads wait for His word. He speaks and eternity filled with His voice Re-echoes the praise of the Lord. Re-echoes the praise of the Lord.
~ Southern Folk Hymn
During these days of bright darkness
preparing for next week,
I am absorbed in all I am not,
my shortcomings and failings,
my temptation to deny self-denial,
my inability to see beyond my own troubles,
forgetting this is not all about me:
~neglecting to witness first hand
all that God through Christ is~
the beauty in His becoming man,
the joy of His joining up with us,
the love in His gracious sacrifice,
the full promise of His Word that breathes
life back into my dying soul~
and so it becomes all about me
not because of
what I’ve done,
or who I am,
but because of
who He is and was and will be,
loving us
no matter what.
His voice, as the sound of the dulcimer sweet,
Is heard through the shadows of death;
The cedars of Lebanon bow at His feet,
The air is perfumed with His breath.
His lips as the fountain of righteousness flow,
That waters the garden of grace,
From which their salvation the Gentiles shall know,
And bask in the smiles of His face.O! Thou in Whose presence my soul takes delight,
On Whom in affliction I call;
My Comfort by day,
And my Song in the night,
My Hope, my Salvation, my All?
Where dost Thou at noontide resort with Thy sheep,
To feed on the pastures of love?
Say, why in the valley of death should I weep,
Or ‘lone in the wilderness rove?
O! why should I wander an alien from thee,
And cry in the desert for bread?
Thy foes will rejoice when my sorrows they see,
And smile at the tears I have shed.
Ye daughters of Zion, declare,
Have you seen the Star that on Israel shone?
Say if in your tents my Belovèd hath been,
And where, with His flock, is He gone?
“What is thy Belovèd, thou dignified fair?
What excellent beauties hath He?
His charms and perfections be pleased to declare,
That we may embrace Him with thee.”
This is my Belovèd, His form is divine;
His vestments shed odor around;
The locks on His head are as grapes on the vine,
When autumn with plenty is crowned.
The roses of Sharon, the lilies that grow in the vales,
On the banks of the streams
On His cheeks in the beauty of excellence blow;
His eyes are as quivers of beams.
His voice as the sound of the dulcimer sweet is
Heard through the shadows of death;
The cedars of Lebanon bow at His feet,
The air is perfumed with His breath.
Read more at http://www.lyrster.com/lyrics/his-voice-as-the-sound-lyrics-mormon-tabernacle-choir.html#HhDxcEshh3JGXUG6.99
Barnstorming 