Words, Henry F. Lyte

Jesus, I my cross have taken,
All to leave and follow Thee.
Destitute, despised, forsaken,
Thou from hence my all shall be.
Perish every fond ambition,
All I’ve sought or hoped or known.
Yet how rich is my condition!
God and heaven are still my own.

Let the world despise and leave me,
They have left my Savior, too.
Human hearts and looks deceive me;
Thou art not, like them, untrue.
O while Thou dost smile upon me,
God of wisdom, love, and might,
Foes may hate and friends disown me,
Show Thy face and all is bright.

Man may trouble and distress me,
’Twill but drive me to Thy breast.
Life with trials hard may press me;
Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.
Oh, ’tis not in grief to harm me
While Thy love is left to me;
Oh, ’twere not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy unmixed with Thee.

Go, then, earthly fame and treasure,
Come disaster, scorn and pain;
In Thy service, pain is pleasure,
With Thy favor, loss is gain.
I have called Thee Abba Father,
I have stayed my heart on Thee
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather;
All must work for good to me.

Soul, then know thy full salvation
Rise o’er sin and fear and care
Joy to find in every station,
Something still to do or bear.
Think what Spirit dwells within thee,
Think what Father’s smiles are thine,
Think that Jesus died to win thee,
Child of heaven, canst thou repine.

Haste thee on from grace to glory,
Armed by faith, and winged by prayer.
Heaven’s eternal days before thee,
God’s own hand shall guide us there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission,
Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days,
Hope shall change to glad fruition,
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.

A moment's remembrance

My mom has seven brothers and two sisters, and most of them live in the area. Last night we gathered for a slideshow of Uncle Dennis' trip to Thailand a couple of months ago. Watching slides is a pretty major tradition in my family - they always happen in the summertime when the pool is open and we can sit out on the hot top and project the slides onto a king-sized sheet on the side of the garage. Mom brings the entree for dinner (lasagna and mac and cheese last night) and other aunts bring salad and fruit and drinks, etc.

If we don't sit outside, the show moves to the living room. It's not a big room by any means, and that's part of the tradition... bean bag chairs cover the floor; the couch lines one wall, a bench another, and two small stuffed chairs opposite the couch. The screen stands in front of the fireplace, and Grandpa stands on the stairs behind the projector. We began outside last night, but as the rain moved in, so did we.

My cousin Laura had her first baby three weeks ago, and was home with her. My aunt Sarah is five months along with her second and already showing a lot. We had a really neat moment in the kitchen as the slides had begun. All my uncles and younger cousins had left the house to watch, but Gram, Aunt Nancy, Mom, Sarah, Laura (holding Maggie), and I all stayed in the kitchen talking. Seven different stages of womanhood sharing stories and wisdom and questions... That conversation will be a favorite memory for me. And holding Maggie was just awesome. She's so tiny and beautiful and alive. To think I may be so gifted someday... oh, I hope I may.

...the Spirit Himself maketh intercession for us, with groanings which cannot be uttered...

An intensity of feeling and appreciating and knowing that is completely new to me overwhelms my senses... overwhelms my mind, my heart, and even my strength to the point of sitting here immovable, unable to articulate until this moment.

The past two weeks have been strange - there is no other word for it. A depth and fierceness of new perception that I can't quite understand, relieved by the queerest of distractions - unexpected accidents and incidents interspersed with brief moments of surging emotion - immense joy, then a scouring, longing pain as when I first moved home to my unsaved family; here, wide eyes and a smile from the innermost heart, then gripping ache and weeping for joy that has still to be recognized, in order to be cleaved to and freed by. All rages below the surface, save the tears that come like a thunder storm on a summer afternoon - where sunshine flooded just a moment before, now darkness invades and pours forth torrent and shuddering and drenching waters that do not seem to refresh - only to cease and move on with equal brevity, leaving behind puddles, but also a rainbow as the light works its way back to fullness of shine.

Freedom in Joy remains the definition of my experience, but this undercurrent of longing is entirely different, and I pray it be made useful if it must continue to exist. There is goodness in it already in that I must hourly cling to my Savior's feet and find my peace and strength there in the closeness of His presence. I can only look to where He is before me and beside me, and live today here, where we are together. I cannot try to look down the path to where we are going because nothing has been revealed to see... therein lies only impatience in not seeing, and that profits none. I am learning to be a present-dweller: to faithfully trust Him to lead and be most thankful for His very being.

My Abba, my Master, my Sovereign, my Perfect Love. You know.