Monthly Archives: December 2019

The heart of that little drummer boy

 Piano lessons. As a girl, I took piano lessons, which meant practice! I began in fourth grade, when practice consisted of a few minutes a day after homework was finished, before I could go play baseball in the empty lot next door with my brothers and other neighborhood kids. As I grew older, practice sessions grew as did my pleasure in playing. I began getting up early to practice before school. Image result for royalty free picture of upright piano

Like many families in those times, we had a living room we seldom used. It could be, and usually was, closed off by a sliding pocket door that disappeared into the wall. On those early mornings, with darkness still at the windows, Daddy already at work, Mom having morning devotions in the family room and my two brothers still sleeping, I slowly slid that door open, relishing the cooler air of that isolated room, the lemony scent of furniture polish wafting from the piano, and that not quite dusty but distinctive smell of infrequently used rooms.

Youthful dreams of a youthful heart. Some mornings, before I crossed the room to the light switch, I stood in front of the picture window, another popular feature of mid-century homes, and gazed at the few lighted windows in the houses of our neighborhood, the sparse street lights, and the brightly lit convenience store at the foot of the rolling hill atop which our house sat, imagining I was gazing at the night-time streets of New York, where I dreamed of living as a writer. Then I turned to the piano and opened the sheet music, edged with purple, with the profile of a little boy and a drum.Image result for royalty free picture of neighborhood at night

That winter of seventh grade, Mrs. Rich was teaching me how to play with more expression, which was proving to be a much-needed outlet for my overly sensitive, adolescent soul. I leaned over the piano, intent on gently playing, four times, the chord that repeats throughout the tender song. Then I sang quietly while I played, “Come, they told me, pa rum pa pum. A newborn king to see, pa rum pa pum. . . “

The anointing God has placed upon that song calmed my heart, even though I did not know Jesus at that time. I played it so often that the entire family could join in. The love and comfort of that tender melody soothed the simmering emotional storms. Fifteen years later, I finally opened my heart to that awesome King I had been singing about and found His gifts of real love and real peace.

A gift fit for our King. Throughout the Christmas season we often hear that much-loved song. What a stirring thought that the little drummer boy perceived the deity of the tiny baby in the manger and wanted to give Him a gift fit for a king! Sweetest of all is the bashful gratitude the little boy expresses as he perceives that playing his drum has pleased the tiny king. “Then, He smiled at me, pa rum pa pum. . . rum pa pum. . . me and my drum.” Image result for royalty free picture of little drummer boy

I, too, have no gift that’s fit to give the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.   However, like the little drummer boy playing his best, I can live my best for our risen Lord. I can fulfill Romans 12:2 which urges “. . . offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God–which is your spiritual act of worship. (NIV)”

Listen friend! Do You hear His love, do you perceive His smile of pleasure as you offer yourself a living sacrifice, striving to please Him in all that you do? “Pa rum pa pum, rum pa pum, rum pa pum.”

Dear Father,

Thank You for sending Your Son to be our Savior. Thank You for showing us clearly in the Bible how to please You. Holy Spirit, teach us how to live our lives as a gift. We love You, Lord! Happy Birthday Jesus!

When Nana (almost) Got Run Over By A Deer

Beautiful mornings. From the vantage point of the interstate, heading into the hill country east of Austin, morning mist lingers in gossamer pockets formed by gently rolling hills visible all the way to the horizon. Just before daybreak, darkness still Image result for royalty free picture of hills at sunriseobscures more than the growing light reveals, creating a sense of solitude. Five years ago, I drove into the hill country two mornings a week, sipping coffee from a go-mug, eagerly anticipating turning off the interstate onto a winding, unpaved road that ended at a house bordered on three sides by small pastures.

A bona fide city girl, with a life-long unsatisfied love of horses, I relished my part-time job doing light housekeeping for Rachel and caring for her two horses, this on the days I was not busy being Nana.

That morning, from her wheelchair by the big bay window Rachel looked out through the mist at the corral where a lone deer was grazing, and grazing on grass meant for the horses.

“Look at that deer!” Rachel harrumphed. “You just can’t get rid of ‘em!”

“You want me to go yell at them, Rachel?”

“Yes!”

I stopped stirring the oatmeal, ran through the side door into the garage and burst through the outer door like a one-woman SWAT Team, albeit not nearly as fast.

Inspired by hard-riding cowboys. You have to remember that I grew up in the sixties,Image result for free picture of john wayne when Westerns ruled prime time television. My brothers and I laid on the floor in front of the television, with Daddy in his recliner, and watched every weekly episode of “Rawhide”, “Bonanza”, “Maverick”, and “The Big Valley”, to name just a few. Western TV shows and western movies, especially ones starring John Wayne, were better than ice cream. So, I had often seen cowboys waving their lariats and yelling, “Yeehaw!”.  It had worked for those hard-riding cowboys as they headed off strays or turned a stampeded herd.

With great intensity, as I ran toward the deer, I now attempted to duplicate that motion, flapping my long arms wildly, and widely, in place of a lariat.

Not my wisest move. Well, several things happened. They happened fast, they happened in slow motion, and they have remained forever frozen in my mind. First, that lone deer that Rachel had seen in front of the house jumped straight up and high-tailed it, literally, toward the larger pasture to the right of the barn and corral. Image result for free picture of cattle stampedeSecond, in the same instant, both horses in that pasture also jumped but, thank the good and merciful Lord, did not bolt toward their fences. Now, the third thing is where things got interesting.

One of the sneaky deer who had been behind the house to the left, hidden from my view, munching on bushes next to the oak tree, leaped and soared within five feet of me on his way to the same pasture as the other one. Fourth, his or her companion, a bit slower by only a nose, ran behind me, this time within three feet of me. It was getting crowded, I guess, on the only pathway away from the obviously insane human.

Fifth, I stood still – for how long, I don’t know. As my racing heart slowed and my breath returned, I reflected on stories I had heard about encounters between vehicles and deer. I concluded that what I had just done was not the wisest move I had ever made.

Finally, still a bit shaky, I turned and went back inside, reflecting how often people had warned me about deer since I had moved to Texas. What would a full-steam ahead deer/human collision look like? Not so great for the human, I was sure.

Rachel and I got a good laugh, but I think about my close encounter when I see a deer or when I hear that song “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” Only now I don’t laugh quite so much!

Joy in the secret place

Image result for Royalty Free Clip Art of Christmas Carols

Christmas carols. What is your favorite Christmas carol? Is it “Silent Night”? How about “Away in a Manger”? One of my favorites is “Joy to the World” because the words, the message, and the melody are all uplifting. Just humming the melody revives my spirit.

Carols for Consecration. I recently finished a booklet entitled “Carols for Consecration: Beloved Truths for Singing to the Melodies of Beloved Carols”. It contains new verses, expressing biblical truths, that can easily be be sung to the melodies of well-known Christmas carols. The booklet is available on this website on the Resources page.

One of my favorites in the booklet is “I Dwell in God’s Own Secret Place”. The recast verses proclaim some of the blessed truths in Psalm 91–and they fit the cheering melody of “Joy to the World.” (See below.)

Personally, the last few months have led me to seek God’s presence more than ever before. You may have passed through a similar process. It is indeed a joyful thing when we (finally) learn to abide in the secret place, with our minds fixed on Him! During this busy season, I pray you and I both will remember to “lean, rely, and trust” our loving Father.

“I Dwell in God’s Own Secret Place” for singing to “Joy to the World”

[1] I dwell in God’s own secret place.
He overshadows me.
His mighty power no foe can withstand. Image result for Royalty Free Clip Art of a Fortress
In Him I am at rest,
In Him I am at rest,
In Him, in Him I am at rest!

[2] I say of God, He is my Lord,
my Rock, my refuge.
On Him I lean, most confidently!
I lean, rely and trust,
I lean, rely land trust,
I lean, I lean, rely and trust!

[3] He rescues me, from every trap
because I dwell and trust.
He keeps me from all harm and deadly disease.
I live abundantly,
I live abundantly,
I live, I live, abundantly!Image result for royalty free picture of flying eagle

[4] He covers me with His great wings.
I trust and dwell in peace.
His promises my armor, His wings my steadfast shelter.
In Him I say “Rejoice!”,
In Him I say “Rejoice!”,
In Him, in Him, I say “Rejoice!”

I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, on Him I lean and rely and in Him I (confidently) trust! (Psalm 91:2 AMPC)

Love and prayers,
Freda