God Among Us: Drop Down Dew

thistledowndrizzle

The seed will grow well, the vine will yield its fruit, the ground will produce its crops, and the heavens will drop their dew. I will give all these things as an inheritance to the remnant of this people.
Zechariah 8:12

Listen, you heavens, and I will speak;
    hear, you earth, the words of my mouth.
Let my teaching fall like rain
    and my words descend like dew,
like showers on new grass,
    like abundant rain on tender plants.
Deuteronomy 32:1-2

 

He hath abolished the old drouth,
And rivers run where all was dry,
The field is sopp’d with merciful dew.
The words are old, the purport new,
And taught my lips to quote this word
That I shall live, I shall not die…
~Gerard Manley Hopkins

 

We are God’s people, wandering homeless in the desert for years before being allowed to enter the Promised Land.  To us, there is great hope in the possibility of moisture coming from heaven as the bountiful gift Moses describes in an analogy for his words and teaching.   The dew of heaven becomes the representation of God’s all-encompassing Spirit and gift of grace in this and other Old Testament scripture passages.

Ultimately, God’s Word descended like dew from heaven in the form of a newborn baby in a manger come to dwell among us.   Like dew, He becomes flesh at no cost to us, to be among us freely, coming in the night, into the darkness, as a gentle covering of all things dry and dying, to refresh, to restore, to soften, to make what was withered fruitful once again.  We live again because of this Word of flesh quickening within us.  EPG

 

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webdrizzle

Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain the Just One.

Latin lyrics:

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant iustum.

A Living Mystery

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qainnards

To be a witness
does not consist in engaging in propaganda
or even in stirring people up,
but in being a living mystery:
it means to live in such a way
that one’s life would not make sense
if God did not exist.

~ Emmanuel Cardinal Suhard of Paris

 

I’m not sure how much a mystery I am;
I feel transparent as glass most days.
But I make no sense at all,
I could not be seen or seen through
without God’s mystery
creating me and all that exists.
His mystery has lived and breathed
alongside us —
we cannot deny our witness of Him.

fallcrocusinn23

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Begin to Rise

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Made for spirituality,
we wallow in introspection.
Made for joy,
we settle for pleasure.
Made for justice,
we clamor for vengeance.
Made for relationship,
we insist on our own way.
Made for beauty,
we are satisfied with sentiment.

But new creation has already begun.
The sun has begun to rise.

Christians are called to leave behind,
in the tomb of Jesus Christ,
all that belongs to the brokenness
and incompleteness of the present world. 
It is time, in the power of the Spirit,
to take up our proper role,
our fully human role,
as agents, heralds and stewards
of the new day that is dawning. 
That, quite simply, is what it means to be Christian,
to follow Jesus Christ into the new world,
God’s new world,
which he has thrown open before us.
~N.T. Wright from Simply Christian

 

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Listening to Lent — Love Sits In His Eyelids

Aprilweed

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

A Canticle for Advent: Why We Love Him So

photo by Julie Garrett
photo by Julie Garrett
photo by Julie Garrett
photo by Julie Garrett

Early on one Christmas morn
Jesus Christ the son was born
Singing carols, Christmas songs
Early on one Christmas morn

Early on one Christmas morn
Jesus Christ the son was born
Singing carols, Christmas songs
Jesus Christ the son was born

Three wise men saw the star at night
Star that lit the heavens so bright
Star that led them to where Christ was born
Early on one Christmas morn

Early on one Christmas morn
Jesus Christ the son was born
Singing carols, Christmas songs
Early on one Christmas morn

Early on one Christmas morn
Jesus Christ the son was born
Singing carols, Christmas songs
Jesus Christ the son was born

In that city of Bethlehem
Wise men brought Him jewels and gems
Born in a manger humble and low
That is why we love Him so

Early on one Christmas morn
Jesus Christ the son was born
Singing carols, Christmas songs
Jesus Christ the son was born

Mary was his mother calm
cradling him gently in her arms
all hail and praise to Him
peace on earth, goodwill to men

Early on one Christmas morn
Jesus Christ the son was born
singing carols, Christmas songs
Early on one Christmas morn

Early on one Christmas morn
Jesus Christ the son was born
singing carols, Christmas songs
Jesus Christ the son was born

Jesus Christ the son was born.
~traditional Gospel carol

Jesus said to them, “If God were your Father, you would love me, for I have come here from God.
I have not come on my own; God sent me.
John 8:42

The Heart’s Throne

1069375_10151757689246119_1606886087_nTrue 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

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