M is for Majestic Music, the "Messiah" with Mother

Today I'll condense a page from Daddy's legacy journal. The question posed to him that I have chosen for the Letter M is...


What extracurricular activities did you enjoy most?

In addition to saying track and field, rollerskating with the youth group, and Youth for Christ rallies, Daddy said this:

My mother and I sang in the city (Hutchinson)'s Handel's Messiah chorus.  Rehearsals were held each sunday afternoon beginning in January and performed on Easter Sunday.

Majestic!

E is for Eva

Eva was my great aunt, my dad's uncle's wife. Aunt Eva and Uncle Frank had eight children. Seven sons and finally a daughter. They named her Joyce, but I think it's because they were RE-joicing that, at last, they had a girl. I want to say she was "Eva's Diva," but I don't really remember that Joyce was spoiled. Probably was, but I didn't really get to know her until she was in college, and she was a lovely, admirable girl with high moral standards without being a snob.

Aunt Eva and Uncle Frank Nickel travelled often with their whole family in a hearse, which is I guess the closest thing to a limo or van they could get back then without appearing to be materialistic Baptists or wayward hippies. They were a singing group, and their music took them all over the United States. They could turn four-part part harmony into ten-part harmony by simply opening their mouths. I remember when they came from Illinois and pulled into our long, gravel driveway one hot, summer day. As they emerged from the hearse, I believe there were only four kids. There weren't ten Nickels left (or, as Uncle Frank said, "fifty cents") by the time Joyce was in grade school touring with them, but as I recall, at least a sextet from the Nickel Family Singers' Hearse/Limo.

Every meal started with prayer and/or a sung prayer. Every after-dinner conversation seemed to make its way to the piano for a hymn-sing. Every farewell was set to beautiful music. You would think you'd been transplanted onto the Austrian Alps alongside Julie Andrews and those drapery-clad Von Trapp kids. The hub of this family wheel was Aunt Eva, smiling at Uncle Frank and the almost-all-male brood with them while they sang, "God Be With You Till We Meet Again."

What a sweet memory. Aunt Eva left a legacy of music in me. And she also left an unforgettable image of a singing hearse parked at our house in Maryland countryside.

Pro Rege and the World's Oldest Profession

Last night I was putting my nine year old to bed. Soon he will find he feels too old to snuggle, but for the time I have left, I enjoy the ritual of reading aloud, exchanging back-scratches, talking about anything and everything, and sometimes helping him master a memory verse.

What's been especially sweet about his attendance at this new Christian school is that he has begun to sing again. And not just commercials. From the time he was about five until last month, he didn't think it was cool to sing. That broke my heart. He wouldn't sing in church. He wouldn't sing when I tried to teach him some hymns at home, and only once in a while he'd sing in the shower. At his old school he felt uncomfortable singing on stage in the musical.

Imagine my joy at the resurrection of his singing! All the kids, even the boys , at school not only have to sing, but enjoy it. I love it!

So far he has learned a US history song that recounts major players and events from the 15th century to the French-Indian War. He was signing it for me as I lay there in the stillness. His voice is precious and nearly pitch-perfect. Then he asked if I'd help him with his Bible verse which he'll be tested on today. His dad had written it on a card and helped him remember the first letter of each of the four lines: BBTW. I told him there were 25 words and the lines have 6,6,7,6 words each, respectively. Then I got to explain to him what the verse means, because, let's face it, words like "reconciled" and "blemish" need some 'splaining to a fourth grader.

I suggested we put the verse to the tune of "Amazing Grace," and it worked! (We messed around with the meter, of course, but doing so only bolstered the memory.)

But now He has reconciled you
By Christ's physical body through death
To present you holy in his sight
Without blemish and free from accusation.
Colossians 1:22

Joel then asked if we could sing the real song. So we did, in the dark, cozied up under blankets; we sang "Amazing Grace."

Pro rege. (For the king.)

I asked Joel if he knew what "Pro Rege" means. He said no.
I explained, "Pro means for. Rege means King, like regal. Like pro-life is for life."
He asked, "Professional is for fessional?"
I snickered. And then he said, "How about pro-stitution?"

I snorted and gathered my wits.

"Do you know what that means?" I asked.
"No. What?"
"Never mind. I'll tell you when you're older. Good night, son. I love you."

Oh, boy. How did we get from "Amazing Grace" to pro-stitution in a matter of seconds?

My One Thing

I'm usually an overpacker, thinking of all the what-ifs, but am determined to be a minimalist this time.

By God's loving design, I get to go on a ladies' retreat this weekend. My mindset is to
pack like I'll only be there for two days and nights. Because that's the truth.

Oh, but, but! I need my blow-dryer with diffuser, my gel, my spray, my clips.
Oh, but, but! I need three different shades of lip gloss, one per day or mood. And mascara to wake up my lashes, and foundation to cover the ever-increasing number of blotches.

Oh, but, but! I need long sleeves and short sleeves and light pants and dark pants and ankle socks and tennis shoes and sandals.
Oh, but! but! I need a video camera and my digital camera, and wish I had a phone with a camera.

Oh, but, but! I need my Bible, some pens, my thankfulness journal, my regular journal, and some note cards to encourage other women, and maybe some stamps in case I actually get a mind to send snail mail.

Oh, but, but! I should take extra towels, big purple ones and some nice lotion, and air freshener and a candle or two...

Okay, I am no longer thinking like a missionary packer. My list of "needs" is nothing more than a list of wants.

I need God to meet me. That's the one thing I need, no matter what. I want to know that I need Him. Not intellectually; that's a given. I want my soul to be convinced.

The theme of the retreat is "One Thing" and I can't help but think of Rich Mullins who wrote,

Everybody I know says they need just one thing
And what they really mean is that they
need just one thing more
And everybody seems to think
They've got it coming
Well I know that I don't deserve You
Still I want to love and serve You
More and more
You're my one thing

Save me from those things
That might distract me
Please take them away and purify my heart
I don't want to lose the eternal for
The things that are passing
'Cause what will I have when the world is gone
If it isn't for the love that goes on and on with

CHORUS:
My one thing, You're my one thing
And the pure in heart shall see God
You're my one thing
You're my one thing
And the pure in heart shall see God

Who have I in Heaven but You Jesus
And what better could I hope
To find down here on earth
I could cross the most distant reaches
Of this world, but I'd just be wasting my time
'Cause I'm certain already, I'm sure
I'd find You're

CHORUS

Every night and every day
You hold on tight
Or you drift away
And you're left to live
With the choices you make
Oh Lord please give me the strength
To watch and work and love and sing and pray

'Cause who have I in Heaven but You Jesus?
And what better could I hope
To find down here on earth?
Well I could cross the most distant reaches
Of this world, but I'd just be wasting my time
'Cause I'm certain already I'm sure I'd find

You're my one thing (one thing)
You're my one thing (one thing)
And the pure in heart shall see God

Altar of Ego

Today I was listening to an old CD by Carolyn Arends. On it is a song I'd forgotten about, but so readily identify with. Though I seldom publish lyrics here, I want to put the ones on it that I find especially relevant today, after a long time journaling and pouring out my helplessness to the Holy One.

Verse 2:

I've got four friends I will let advise me
Me, myself and I and the evil twin inside me
We talk each up and we bring each other down
'Cause there's nothing we like more than the ever present sound
of the voice inside my head, once again it's led
To losing all the things that matter

Chorus

I don't want to be here again
Bowed at the altar of ego
I've sacrificed most everything
Here at the altar of ego

I need a touch of love, I need a thrust of grace
A push, a shove, a slap in the face
"Cause I have gazed too long at the person inthe mirror
As I turn away, I'm finding things clearer
I will set my sights on Someone so much higher
Nto on what I want, but on what I require
To travel to the place where at last I can embrace
All the things that really matter.

Be Polite Even When You Sing

Joel cracked me up yesterday with a really good one. Just when you think your kids aren't catching on to the whole manners thing....