now what?

Jason and I don't plan well. We're more take-things-as-they-come people. Until now, it's not been a big deal. In fact, I like it that way. I happen to think it's made us more calm. But suddenly we find ourselves almost 6 weeks from the biggest deal of our collective life, and we have no idea what to do.

On or around Nov 12, we'll (Lord willing) move to Derby, UK for a 9 months. That's cool and exciting, but now what?

On Friday night, Jason and I plan to sit down for our first ever big deal conference and attempt to hash out a plan for the next 6 weeks of our lives.

I'm beginning to be more than a little nervous.

Let's all stand and sing hymn number 406, "The Solid Rock"

I've grown up in the tradition of the The Baptist Hymnal. I have fond memories of standing on the pew between Mom and Dad on Sunday mornings or Granny and PawPaw on Sunday nights singing the gospel in big, old-fashioned words that I wouldn't understand for many years to come. I got great satisfaction from hearing my mom sing the alto part and my dad sing at all (I had a feeling that the choir director didn't really pay him not to sing in choir). And I knew from hearing my parents sing those old hymns all week long, that their faith was real.

I thank God that I've had that kind of musical influence in my life. But it wasn't really the music, per se, that was such an influence. It was those big, old-fashioned words that I didn't understand before, but now I do. It was the deep, heartfelt faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ that those old hymns so vividly expressed. It was the poetry set to music that caused me to memorize all those verses (or in many cases, verses 1, 2 and 4) and later look with pleasure at their sweet message.

Today, those songs, deeply rooted in my mind, remind me that "when all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay;" they point me to my "bright hope for tomorrow", or give me words for a prayer in the times when I don't know what to say; they remind me of certain Scripture passages and of Scripture's "firm foundation."

It saddens me that there are fewer of the deep, vivid, heart wrenching or joyful poems being written by Christian musicians these days. And there are even fewer of those old hymns being sung in churches (at lesat in my church we rarely see a hymn, and when we do all I hear are complaints that the song is "too slow" and "too long" and "too old"). Oh that we would look past the old-fashioned musical score and see the beauty of the message in those slow, long and old songs.

My hope and prayer is that those old hymns won't die, and Christians will joyously sing of their Reedemer in a way that is more than just musically pleasing, but has meaning and speaks to the depths of their souls.

But, for the record, I think those old hymns are more musically pleasing than much of today's "contemporary Christian music," and I get great pleasure from leafing through my hymnal and singing.

Note: it's possible that my hymnal isn't mine and actually belongs to my Dad. If it is, I'm sorry, and I owe you a new hymn book. But I'm pretty sure you have several of your own.

this is a test

if I don't forward the endless "forward this to 10 people if you love Jesus" e-mails and text messages, does it mean I don't love Jesus?