Good evening from El Dorado, Arkansas! I came here with my Aunt Jerry and Uncle Jack after roughly three days in Nashville, Arkansas. Lord willing, I will stay here until New Year's Day when I'll drive back to Houston. I haven't been to El Dorado since I was a little boy. I'll help ring in the New Year with my aunt and uncle's congregation tomorrow night. You know churches throw wild parties!
Somewhere on the road between Wichita and Nashville on Thursday, I made a promise to myself that I will write a hymn sometime in my life. I put no time frame on my oath so it could be thirty years off before I will do it. It probably will have something to do with Christian duty- we don't sing many songs in worship anymore along that line. I've always admired hymns that said things I wish I could, that touched me like I wish I could affect others. From childhood, I loved hymns like Faith Of Our Fathers, Ye Christian Heralds, My Faith Looks Up To Thee, etc. These writings painted word pictures of my faith and responsibility in ways even a boy could understand. I can only pray to even scratch the surface of that kind of spirituality. There is a slight problem of my not being able to read or write music but I know people who can. I'd want it to be something simple, like Let Us With A Gladsome Mind or 'Tis Religion, melodies even a tone deaf guy like me can handle. This morning, in worship at a small rural church, I opened the hymnal to Blessed Assurance. My eyes rested on these lines from that immortal piece of Christian music:
Angels descending, bring from above
Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.
I'd settle for some orignal thoughts like that. I'll let you know in the next thirty years.
Applicable quote of the day:
| “A religious life is a struggle and not a hymn” | |
| Madame de
Stael |
God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1
www.hawleybooks.com
E-mail me at steve@hawleybooks.com
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