Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life.
The evening beam that smiles the clouds away,and tints tomorrow with prophetic ray.
~Lord Byron
God put the rainbow in the clouds, not just in the sky… We can say “I can be a rainbow in the cloud for someone yet to be.” That may be our calling.
~ Maya Angelou
Weak and wounded sinner
Lost and left to die
O, raise your head for love is passing by
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus and live
Now your burden’s lifted
And carried far away
And precious blood has washed away the stain
So sing to Jesus
Sing to Jesus
Sing to Jesus and live
And like a new born baby
Don’t be afraid to crawl
And remember when you walk sometimes we fall
So fall on Jesus
Fall on Jesus
Fall on Jesus and live
Sometimes the way is lonely
And steep and filled with pain
So if your sky is dark and pours the rain
Then cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus and live
Ohh, and when the love spills over
And music fills the night
And when you can’t contain your joy inside
Then dance for Jesus
Dance for Jesus
Dance for Jesus and live
And with your final heartbeat
Kiss the world goodbye
Then go in peace, and laugh on glory’s side
And fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus and live
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus and live
~Chris Rice “Untitled Hymn” (click link to hear this hymn which was sung at Linda’s funeral)
Our little church family lost one of its own last weekend. Linda wasn’t in her usual seat last Sunday morning, which was notable. When a family member later couldn’t reach her on the phone, it was discovered she had slept all the way to heaven sometime in the night.
Hers had been a final heartbeat that only God knew would happen, and when.
We miss our sister in Christ and she was missed again this morning as we sang and prayed and heard God’s Word to us; we miss her gentle smile and her ready willingness to help whenever needed. We miss her dedication to a Savior who, by His grace, reshaped her life from self to selfless service and sacrifice. We miss her love and caring for the rest of us who worshiped alongside her.
Yet we are comforted by what she has left behind: the flower gardens around our church that Linda tended faithfully for years, the crocus and tulip bulbs we know will come up next spring as they will continue to do, to remind us of renewal and resurrection. Linda got down on her knees to work the soil to create beauty, falling on her knees in gratitude for forgiveness she had known and been shown. She cried, she sang, she danced, and now, now she has flown to Jesus long before we were ready for her to leave.
We raise our tearful faces to see her love passing by.
Go in peace, Linda. You have found joy on glory’s side.
True worship can only take place when we agree to God sitting not only on His throne in the center of the universe, but on the throne that stands in the center of our heart.
~Robert Colman
Last night we had the joy of worship on the hill on our farm for a summer evening of Wiser Lake Chapel‘s outdoor church. Together we came from far and wide: from Japan and Myanmar to South Dakota and Colorado– sixty five people ranging from a 5 week old premie baby making her church debut to a 93 years young woman who treasures each and every chance to worship with her church family.
Our hearts cannot be empty and longing when God sits at the center of Who we are.
Before the throne of God above; before the throne of God within. Our hearts are full indeed.
Human beings by their very nature are worshipers. Worship is not something we do; it defines who we are. You cannot divide human beings into those who worship and those who don’t. Everybody worships; it’s just a matter of what, or whom, we serve.
~Paul Tripp
Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall…
It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His Flesh: ours.
~John Updike from “Seven Stanzas at Easter”
Our flesh is so weak, so temporary,
as ephemeral as a dew drop on a petal
yet with our earthly vision
it is all we know of ourselves
and it is what we trust knowing
of Him.
He was born as our flesh, from our flesh.
He walked and hungered and thirsted and slept
as our flesh.
He died, His flesh hanging in tatters,
blood spilling freely
breath fading
to nought
speaking Words
our ears can never forget.
And He rose again
as His flesh: ours
to walk and hunger and thirst alongside us
and here on this hill we meet together,
–flesh of His flesh–
here among us He is risen
–flesh of our flesh–
married forever
as the Church
and its fragile, flawed
and everlasting body.
Gentle Shepherds
of this wayward flock
each of us wanting to go
his or her own way
We know your voice
and listen intently
to follow you
where you know we should be
You lead us
to the green pastures
of The Word
to fill up full.
Alongside the still waters
we quench our thirst,
we are comforted
that you point the way.
If one has gone astray
we know you will come looking
until we are searched out
in our hiding place.
We rejoice together
in celebration
of the lost
now found.
You know your sheep
through a generation
of us thriving
in your love and care.
We know our shepherds.
We know your voice.
We know you were brought to us
through the loving grace of God Himself.
Amen and Amen again.
(written for the twentieth anniversary of Pastor Bert and Jane Hitchcock coming to minister to Wiser Lake Chapel, Lynden, Washington
( a writing class assignment on a building that is particularly meaningful to me)
Back in the early days of Whatcom County, the little church on Wiser Lake had been constructed through “contributions of the people” in a rural neighborhood only a few miles from where we now live. $600 in lumber was provided by a local farmer whose trees were cut and milled and brought by horse drawn wagon to a building site adjacent to a one room school house along a corrugated plank road. The total property was “valued at $1800, but of even more value to the community.” The dedication ceremony was held on Sunday, August 27, 1916 followed by “a basket dinner—come with well filled baskets for a common table, under the direction of the Ladies Aid”. This was to be followed by a “Fellowship Meeting, special music and fraternal addresses” and the day ended at 8 PM with a Young People’s Meeting. So began the long history of the “Wiser Lake Church”.
For reasons unrecorded in the history of the church, the original denomination closed the doors thirty years later, and for awhile the building was empty and in need of a congregation. By the fifties, it became a mission church of the local Christian Reformed Churches and launched a Sunday School program for migrant farm and Native American children in the surrounding rural neighborhood. No formal church services started until the sixties. By the time the building was sixty years old, so many children were arriving for Sunday School, there was not enough room so the building was hoisted up on jacks to allow a hole to be dug underneath for a basement full of classrooms. Over the course of a summer, the floor space doubled, and the church settled back into place, allowed to rest again on its foundation.
Over seventy years after its dedication ceremony, our family drove past the boxy building countless times hurrying on our way to other places, barely giving it a second glance. It had a classic design, but showed its age with peeling paint, a few missing shingles, an old fashioned square flat roofed belfry, and arched windows. The hand lettered sign spelling out “Wiser Lake Chapel” by the road constituted a humble invitation of sorts, simply by listing the times of the services.
On a blustery December Sunday evening, we had no place else to be for a change. Instead of driving past, we stopped, welcomed by the yellow glow pouring from the windows and an almost full parking lot. Our young family climbed the steps to the big double doors, and inside were immediately greeted by a large balding man with a huge grin and encompassing handshake. He asked our names and pointed us to one of the few open spots still available in the old wooden pews.
The sanctuary was a warm and open space with a high lofted ceiling, dark wood trim accents matching the ancient pews, and a plain wooden cross above the pulpit in front. There was a pungent smell from fir bough garlands strung along high wainscoting, and a circle of candles standing lit on a small altar table. Apple pie was baking in the kitchen oven, blending with the aroma of good coffee and hot cocoa.
The service was a Sunday School Christmas program, with thirty some children of all ages and skin colors standing up front in bathrobes and white sheet angel gowns, wearing gold foil halos, tinfoil crowns and dish towels wrapped with string around their heads. They were prompted by their teachers through carols and readings of the Christmas story. The final song was Silent Night, sung by candle light, with each child and member of the congregation holding a lit candle. There was a moment of excitement when one girl’s long hair briefly caught fire, but after that was quickly extinguished, the evening ended in darkness, with the soft glow of candlelight illuminating faces of the young and old, some in tears streaming over their smiles.
It felt like home. We had found our church. We’ve never left. Over two decades it has had peeling paint and missing shingles, a basement that floods when the rain comes down hard, toilets that don’t always flush, and though it smells heavenly on potluck days, there are times when it can be just a bit out of sorts and musty. It also has a warmth and character and uniqueness that is unforgettable.
It’s really not so different from the folks who gather there. We know we belong.
Matthew 21:16
“Do you hear what these children are saying?” [the chief priests and teachers of the law] asked him. “Yes,” replied Jesus, “have you never read, ‘From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise’?”
Children have a gift of getting to the heart of the matter. The children in the temple during Holy Week continued to shout and praise Jesus’ name, shouting “Hosanna!” just as they had done on the road to Jerusalem on Sunday. For them, the triumph was not over. The children continued to celebrate when the adults around them were losing momentum in their faith.
The grumbling of the chief priests and teachers of the law about the noisy children is met with a response from Jesus that is a reminder of what they know all too well themselves from reading the Psalms–praise from the children is actually prescribed by God and is therefore made holy.
I’m reminded of this every Sunday when I play piano for the Sunday School singing time for about thirty children in our small church. For over twenty years now I’ve watched a generation of Wiser Lake Chapel children, including my own three, grow up in that church basement, singing the same praise and worship songs from the time they sit as toddlers on a bigger sibling’s lap, to the point when they “graduate” to the high school class. Some of those children have become the Sunday School teachers, with their own children sitting in the very chairs they sat in such a short time ago. There is nothing more invigorating than hearing children singing energetically with joy, knowing that God Himself has ordained their voices should be lifted up in praise.
So on this sad and lonely week that marches inexorably to Friday, to Golgotha, to suffering and death, the unwelcome shouts and songs of the children must have been soothing balm to Jesus’ soul. The children knew His heart when the adults around Him were too blind to see and too deaf to hear.
2012 Easter Sunrise Service at BriarCroft — April 8, 2012 at 7 AM
(formerly Walnut Hill Farm)
sunrise view from our hill–see more at our website at http://www.briarcroft.com/easter.htm
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.
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
Dan and Emily Gibson
So much of Psalm 51 is about being cleansed and transformed. This is understandable given the nature of King David’s heinous acts of infidelity and murder. It must have felt like the blood would never leave his hands and that he would be marked with sin forever.
But part of penitence is expressing deep regret, overwhelmed with the guilty sorrow of having done wrong, very wrong, and wanting to do whatever it takes to feel right with God again. So this verse resonates with anyone who has erred in both large and small ways, having laid awake at night thinking about it, weeping in remorse, crying out with contrition.
Lent is the reminder that we have renewal at hand. It is coming. Our hearts will be light again, loving and full of joy.
Our pastor has just finished a very illuminating evening study of Paul’s Epistle to the Colossians, which ends with a few concise words in 4:18, the final verse.
I, Paul, write this greeting in my own hand. Remember my chains. Grace be with you.
The Apostle shares remarkable humanity with his Christian brothers and sisters in these words that deserve deeper exploration over the next several days. What initially caught my attention was the interesting contrast between the last line of the letter compared to the opening line in verse at the very beginning of the letter:
Grace and peace to you from God our Father.
What is the difference here in the greeting “Grace and peace to you” at the beginning and “Grace be with you” at the end?
The following explanation is proposed by Dr. John Piper (www.desiringgod.org) in his book Future Grace:
“Paul has in mind that the letter itself is a channel of God’s grace to the readers. Grace is about to flow ‘from God’ through Paul’s writing to the Christians. So he says, ‘Grace to you.’ That is, grace is now active and is about to flow from God through my inspired writing to you as you read – ‘grace [be] to you.’ But as the end of the letter approaches, Paul realizes that the reading is almost finished and the question rises, ‘What becomes of the grace that has been flowing to the readers through the reading of the inspired letter?’ He answers with a blessing at the end of every letter: ‘Grace [be] with you.’ With you as you put the letter away and leave the church. With you as you go home to deal with a sick child and an unaffectionate spouse. With you as you go to work and face the temptations of anger and dishonesty and lust. With you as you muster courage to speak up for Christ over lunch. . . . [Thus] we learn that grace is ready to flow to us every time we take up the inspired Scriptures to read them. And we learn that grace will abide with us when we lay the Bible down and go about our daily living” (Future Grace, 66-67).
This is what it is like each Sunday, as I enter Wiser Lake Chapel, and am filled with the Word from Pastor Bert’s inspired teaching. The spirit flows from our Pastor’s study of the Word, to accompany each of us as we go about our week. Grace to, and then with us.
Just as Paul intended for his brothers and sisters. We are deeply blessed.
Barnstorming 