Sing and Make Music

There was a gathering of believers in Crosby, North Dakota this evening.  It just so happened it took place in a Catholic church, but those who attended were also from the Assembly of God and Lutheran churches of the area.  There may have been other denominations represented, as well.  A number of years ago a woman in our community had a vision to create an ecumenical evening of sacred music to be held in the evening on Palm Sunday.  She recruited help from one of the pastors serving at the time, and now the service has become a tradition with hosting of the event on a rotation between the churches.

Being a person who enjoys music, it is always a blessing for me to hear what others have to share, as well as participate in providing music.  Tonight's concert did not disappoint, offering a well rounded variety of music.  Our "Music Makers" group, which provides entertainment at our local nursing home and assisted living center, presented two "oldies but goodies" from the hymn book. . ."I'll Fly Away" and "I Know Who Holds Tomorrow".  Our group includes those who play guitars, accordion, banjo, rhythm sticks and piano.  Ages of the members of the group range from the youngest in his 20's to the oldest in his 90's.  It is such a joy to see people continuing to share their talents even into their old age.

A young couple who moved to our community from the Philippines shared a song from their native country which was beautiful and we also heard from four other soloists.  Their selections varied and included a modern day contemporary praise song ("In Christ Alone"), a beautiful song from the 80's ("Written In Red"), a couple of Gaither favorites from the 70's ("Gentle Shepherd" and "God on the Mountain") and the traditional "Lord's Prayer".  A local pastor also shared a song about longing for a time when there would be no more fighting and hatred, but all would live in peace and harmony. . .we made great strides in getting there with our time together this evening!

Two other unique presentations included a woman who did sign language to the song "Amazing Grace" and an instrumental group known as "Cross Border Brass" who presented a medley of three spirituals.  Their name comes from the fact three of the members come from across the border in Canada.

The Bible has much to say about singing and making music.  One such passage is found in Ephesians 5:19

Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs.

Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord.

 

Another favorite of mine is found in Psalm 100:1-2

 

Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands.

Serve the LORD with gladness: 

come before His presence with singing.

 

Having been raised in one denomination and married into another, these ecumenical type gatherings are extra special to me.  It is also a reminder there is truly only one God we serve, and our redemption comes from the death and resurrection of the same Jesus Christ.  The Holy Spirit works within us all, even though our preference in worship style may vary.  At the start of Holy Week leading up to Easter, this evening of music filled our hearts and minds with a message of unity we can carry with us.  May you find it in your life, as well!



 

 

Yes, Sir, Yes Sir!

THREE BAGS FULL!  And we're not talking about wool here, as in the old English nursery rhyme.  No, sir, this time we are talking about garbage.  Road side litter.  Discarded trash.  Things which never should have been left behind by the litterbugs.  Sadly, as the winter snow disappears, the litter makes its appearance.  This year we had very little snow to start with, so it didn't take many warm days to bring it to light. 

It has become part of my routine to include an outdoor walk on days the weather is cooperative.  Although my route varies from time to time, I've come to enjoy some of the newer walking paths in our community.  Seeing the amount of litter along my ventures inspired me to bring along a plastic grocery bag on my walk last Friday.  Sadly, it was only half way through my walk when the bag was filled for the first time.  Finding a dumpster nearby, I emptied the garbage and continue on my way.

 

 

 



It wasn't long before the bag was once again full, and along the way I also found another plastic bag which also filled before my journey was completed.  Finding a second dumpster, I decided to unload both bags and call it good for the day.

It seemed there was a definite pattern to the types of garbage collected.  At the top of the list would be beer bottles and cans, followed by pop cans, water bottles and cigarette cases.  What is it that possesses someone to throw their garbage along the roadside?  I often find myself asking the question, "Didn't their mother teach them anything??"  Sadly, in many cases, she may have been the one setting the example.

Litter.  One of my biggest "pet peeves".  Although it irritates me to see it, I've found over the years it brings a certain amount of joy to my heart to pick it up and leave behind a prayer for the person who left it there in my path.  It may seem like a small effort, but I've always felt it better to be a part of the solution than the problem.  Which side of the issue do you find yourself on?  Hopefully this is one time I won't have to find myself saying a prayer for you! 



  

A Man From Troy

Troy Township.  The land of my birth and growing up years.  A fairyland kind of place where fathers worked hard on the farm, mothers worked in the home and kids ran around outside and had fun.  Neighbors were close by and visiting them was commonplace.  Everyone knew everyone and seeing each other brought a smile to your face.  When hard times came, there wasn't anybody who didn't pitch in and help.  It's just the way it was.

Over the past week, my thoughts have returned often to this place, not far from where I now reside.  Just a few miles away, it is still home to my oldest brother and packed with more memories than I can count.  Precious memories!  What brought them to light was the passing of Arthur Holm, our closest neighbor to the west for the first ten years of my life.

At 92, he had been living in his own home until just a few weeks prior to his death.  Twenty two years ago he had turned the "home place" over to his son and daughter-in-law.  This farm was originally occupied by his parents and was where he grew up.  Although he moved from this farm to become part of our small town life, they never were able to keep him away from farming and it was an active part of his life, even as he aged.

Random things come to mind when I think about visiting in the home of Art and his wife, Marie.  First was the confusion about his name.  Everyone called him "Bud" and as a child it made no sense.  What WAS his name anyway?  Art or Bud?  Their son was two years older than me and had two older sisters who where in high school at the time I was starting school.  (They were so beautiful and I dreamed of someday being like them!)  The toys at their house were always WAY cooler than the ones we had.  We had the standard eight color paint case, but I think the one at their house had about fifty choices.  I also remember lots of little plastic animal figures, fences and I think cowboys and Indians you could take on and off horses.  Later on, when they built a new house, there were roller skates you attached to your shoes and the open concrete floor of the basement became a great skating rink.  Yes, precious memories!

When I was in the second grade, my mother was expecting my little sister.  At the age of 42, she required several months of hospitalization before the baby arrived due to thrombosis in her legs.  I remember very little about this time of my life, however there are faint memories of my dad bringing me to the Holm farm to get my long hair braided.  Like I said, if there was a problem, neighbors pitched in to help!

As I attended Art's funeral, it was sad to look around the small, country church and realize there were very few of my dad's generation left.  In most cases, sons have taken over the family farm and are now the patriarchs of their families.  Driving to the church I found myself saying the names as I drove past the farms.  Something was different, with all the oil wells and new electrical lines, but still there was an element of "familiar" which brought peace to my heart.  Afterwards, I made my way past the farm which became our home at the time I was ten.  Even it has a "new look" with much bigger grain bins and farm buildings than when I was growing up.

Yes, time marches on.  Things change.  But the passing of a dear neighbor has done much to dust the cobwebs out of the corners of my brain and make me pause, reflect and realize I really did grow up in a wonderful place and time.  Something tells me they're probably still celebrating the latest Troy Township homecoming in heaven, and it helps to picture my parents right there with Jesus as he welcomed Art with a hearty, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant!"