Frances Ridley Havergal, a poet and hymnwriter (“Take My Life and Let It Be”), published this book of devotions in 1879, shortly before her death. I do not know what edition I have, but it looks and feels like an early one.
A note written on an inside page reads, “With pleasant memories of Bible School, Summer of 1945, G. S. Montgomery.”
A friend and fellow church member, artist Susan Savage depicts her Christian faith through paintings. Earlier this month, Susan presented this stunning oil-on-canvas painting, titled Delivered, to our church, where it now graces a wall in the prayer room.
Excerpts from her statement about the painting:
A shiny silver vessel sits triumphantly atop a nest of sharply pointed thorns. A red ribbon weaves its way through the torturous thicket and pours itself out behind a draped white cloth. The material substance of the silver vessel, delivered from its own refining fire of tribulation, stands as a testament to what Jesus Christ endured on the cross, and serves as a reminder of His loving and redemptive sacrifice for humankind.
This painting exemplifies the foundational core of the Christian faith. It is a reminder that Christ died in our place to rescue us from our sins. He died that we may live. Because of his sacrifice on the cross, His shed blood, and His resurrection from the grave, those who believe in Him are given victory over physical death.
"But God, being rich in mercy because of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together in Christ. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not of your own doing: It is the gift of God ..." (Ephesians 2:4,5,8)
Visit her website to see more of her extraordinary paintings.
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation,
I hear the sweet, though far-off hymn
That hails a new creation
Through all the tumult and the strife,
I hear that music ringing
It finds an echo in my soul
How can I keep from singing?
What though my joys and comforts die?
I know my Savior liveth
What though the darkness gather round?
Songs in the night he giveth
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging
Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing?
I lift my eyes, the cloud grows thin
I see the blue above it
And day by day this pathway smooths,
Since first I learned to love it,
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart
A fountain ever springing
All things are mine since I am his
How can I keep from singing?
Such beautiful words, and all so true in my experience. As far as I can tell, no historian has found the original author of these words, but Robert Wadsworth Lowry put them to music in 1869. You can hear Kristen Getty sing this hymn in her lovely way by clicking here.
I am working to turn this poem I wrote into a song:
Inside
there is
no offending color
All the same
All that matters
∞
It’s the beating of the heart
the working of the brain
the moving of the blood
All the same, all the same
∞
It’s the Spirit of God
it’s the soul that remains
tell your brother that you love him
give your sister her place
∞
Good night
∞
And a very good Day
when the Lord comes down
and He carries it away
∞
He’ll bring His color
and nothing else will remain
All the same
All that matters
∞
Throughout Spring 2020, I was too concerned about COVID and my health to walk into the local gardening center. I ached for the day when I could roam the crowded and too narrow aisles once more. Never again would I complain about the long lines. And when I finally did go in for my Spring shopping spree a few months ago, I didn’t have a single thought of discontent. Though no one could tell, I was smiling behind my mask as I swiped my card through the machine because I purchased more items than were on my list, as usual.
Gardening is my special pleasure.
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Easter Sunday, Late 1960s
The Lowe Family did not miss church on Easter Sunday.
Mom and Dad didn’t think twice about skipping it every other Sunday of the year, but attending the Easter service was a must do. It was like they figured the liveliness of Spring stirred God into bursting from his year-long patience with them. It was time to get into the pews before they felt his wrath.
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Darla McDavid 