“We test our lives by thine.”

“We test our lives by thine.”

Hymn: “Immortal Love, Forever Full” – John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892)
Common Tune: SERENITY

When growing up in Pigeon Forge, there was a place at the top of the stairs leading down into our basement where my mother would occasionally stand me up against the wall, level a ruler on top of my head, and make a mark. Beside that mark, she wrote the date. I was an only child, so I don’t know why “Ronald George” was written above all these tick marks. I guess she never measured herself or daddy.

Interestingly as I recall, this was always done at my request – not on my birthday or New Year’s Day. Whenever I thought I had grown a little, I would ask to be measured.

The house is still there on Forest Avenue. I wonder if those vertical evaluations are still in that stair well?

In this six-word phrase from a poem by a great American poet icon, we remind ourselves to stop measuring ourselves against other humans and to rather use the example of the Lord and Master of us all.

Seems like every gift I have falls into some artistic category. Throughout my entire educational and professional career I caught myself saying, “I wish I could sing like him,” or “I wish I could draw as well as she does,” or “If I could act like that other guy, I would have the lead,” and so on. I never seemed to measure up. In my personal evaluations, I was a little good at doing a lot of things, but great at nothing.

The truth is that I have way too often applied the same testing process to my spiritual life, wishing I had the prayer-life of another – or the patience, the wisdom, the understanding of scripture, the moral fortitude; I even wondered why I didn’t have as much faith as my mentors – those I looked up to.

When I come across this final sentence of Whittier’s hymn-text, I want to slap myself for making such comparisons. I should be testing my own life by the benchmarks set up by the One I really look up to: my Savior Example. As with my childhood requests, perhaps I need to ask for a measurement of my spiritual growth.

Judgmental of the spiritual lives of others? Guilty. This hymnline also reminds me that I am not the judge of my fellow strugglers in the faith. I need to get my nose out of their business, stop mouthing off, and set my eyes on Christ. (That’s three facial metaphors by the way!) In all those years that Hedy measured the growth of her only son, she never asked any of my friends to come stand there and see how they measured up to my progress; she only measured me against myself.

Today, focus on how YOU measure up. Stand against the proverbial wall and let your heavenly Parent tick off your progress, regardless of how the kid down the street is progressing!

“Your hope, your confidence let nothing shake.”

Hymn: “Be Still, My Soul” – Katharina von Schlegel (1752)
Tune: FINLANDIA (Sibelius)

Confident hope. What a wonderful state of being. Think on that for a moment.

You and I as followers of the Lamb have a place of great stability. Our faith system is built upon such the deep-reaching piers; our foundation is secure. Our hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.

Yet all kinds of forces from without and within are out to make us tremble… yea, even tremor. These forces are not ‘of God,’ you understand; they are instead of the Evil One who is out to shake us loose from the branch… to earthquake us in two… to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

It is up to us to reinforce the impenetrable mighty fortress… the bulwark never failing. We do that every time we avoid the sin that so easily besets us… when we stand firm against all adversaries… those that attack from the outside and those which lurk deep inside us.

With all the confidence we can muster, let us not lose hope in order that our faith may not be jiggled about, much less shaken loose. THAT is the message from this hymnline, and it is a message worth hearing, remembering and relying upon.

Using the "Drop-Cover-Hold On" admonition from the earthquake drill above:

•     Drop to your knees.
•     Cover yourself in prayer, recalling all that stored-up scripture you’ve memorized.
•     Hold on to the nail-scarred hand.

[Notice on the image, the final step is “spread the word”!]

The next time you feel the earth move under your feet, steady thyself! If you don’t, it will only get worse.


Hear Amy Grant Sing This Hymn
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XsreL-9PbEI

"Still all my song shall be: Nearer, my God, to thee."

Hymn: “Nearer, My God, to Thee” – Sarah F. Adams (1805-1848)

Tune: BETHANY

It is a real shame that this hymn is mostly remembered as what the band was playing when the Titanic went down and is typically relegated to memorial services and funerals. The haunting, usually-slowly-sung hymn has some wonderful brief phrases worth recounting. It speaks of steps leading into heaven, angels beckoning us homeward, thoughts brightened with praise… and references to the Jacob’s ladder-dream (Genesis 28:12).

My outstanding word in this hymn-line for today is “still.” It’s a great word we use when we mean “after all this time.” I suppose that’s one of the reasons it is associated with funerals or end-of-life events.

Job uses this word many times in his defense against those who encourage him to turn from his God, such as in chapter 13, verse 15: “Though he take away my life, still will I hope in him.” (Some translations use the word ‘yet,’ meaning the same as ‘still.’)

It is that kind of continuing steadfastness to which we all aspire – those of us who seek to be faithful followers of the Lamb. It is our intention to come to the end of our days, still using the word “still”! Of course, you know that I’m going to love this line because it says that my song shall still be, “Let me be nearer, my God, to thee.”

One of my top-ten favorite hymns is “Draw Me Nearer.” Many of you know that one, and it will come up more than once on these blogs! I find myself singing it many mornings while I’m getting ready – out loud if no one else is in the house! It truly is my sincere prayer for every day – to edge a bit closer to my blessed Lord and to the cross where he died.

This coming Sunday when you stand to sing in worship - whatever your musical style - realize that your praises of the crucified, risen Christ are still genuine – after all these years. May ALL our songs still continue to draw us nearer to the One who is now on heaven’s throne at the top of those steps where angels beckon us to come. May our thoughts and attitudes truly still be brightened with his praise.

Try your best to stop thinking of this as a hymn about a mighty ship going down; rather consider a mighty church rising up in praise, still moving nearer to one another and their Leader.

Anne Murray Sings This Hymn

Unaccompanied Setting from the Mennonite Tradition

Haunting Setting for Nine Cellos

“Lord, I confess to thee sadly my sin. All I am tell I thee, all I have been.”

Hymn: “No, Not Despairingly” – Horatius Bonar (1808-1899)
Tune: KEDRON


To borrow a word from this hymnline, “sadly” not many evangelical churches sing this hymn any more. That is sad for me because there may be no other complete hymn in all of church history with more profound one-liners than this one. Those “ruminating” texts are why I am committed to hymns – congregational and devotional.

Two of the most introspective sentences in all hymndom are spoken here. Nothing frivolous or superficial. “Sadly, righteous Christ, I admit there are some darknesses in my life that I cannot express out loud to any human. You know about all this already, of course, but I need to tell you the whole truth of who I am and what I’ve done… who I’ve been. Here goes…” A chill should have come across you as you pondered that. If not, go back and read it again!

In the hymn, Bonar goes on to ask for purging, washing and cleansing; it is a true confession.

For me, the great mercy of this text is that I can lay it all out there – expose myself, so to speak – and my relationship with Christ will not be affected. Do you realize that? Do you really? This ability of the Savior to continue loving me in spite of the sad shape my life may have been in – I am blown away by that. Absolutely blown away.

Like any good friend, in all likelihood the response of Christ is, “I know. I know. It’s okay. We’re still okay.”

Though too often omitted from public worship, confession is still good for the soul… for THIS poor soul at least.

[First published 11/20/2014]

"Who can faint while such a river ever does their thirst asuage?"

"Who can faint while such a river ever does their thirst asuage?"

Hymn: “Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken” – John Newton (1725-1807)

Typical Tune: AUSTRIAN HYMN

"Doth this cup thy thirst assuage?"

How long has it been since you used the word ‘assuage’? Unless you’ve been doing a bit part on Downton Abbey or some other British drama, it’s probably been a while!

This grand old hymn about Zion, the city of God founded on the Rock of Ages was penned by the same man who wrote what has been dubbed the Christian National Anthem: “Amazing Grace”!

This particular hymn-line follows a couple of statements about how the sons and daughters of God are well-supplied with living water; then the question is asked how could any one of those sons and daughters (you and I) ever fall by the wayside when we have such a rich supply of living water to quench our thirst? I know it is hyperbole and that the question is rhetorical… and all that poetic-device stuff, but seriously, folks: how can we claim to be thirsty when we have been offered a never-thirst-again dose of effervescent refreshment to even our driest moments?

I know that many people pooh-pooh hymn singing because archaic words crop up now and again. (I can’t believe I just typed “pooh-pooh” into one of these postings! My apologies to people with preschoolers.) For sure, the use of assuage is archaic; but without turning to any dictionary or book of synonyms, in this context we all know what it means. It’s not nearly as off-putting as raising one’s Ebenezer!

The next line of the hymn seems to indicate that the assuaging agent is grace… like that amazing grace of one of John Newton’s other hymns – grace that never fails from age to age.

So before you start swooning and crying out in your dehydration, step into that river of grace – that life-giving, life-maintaining, life-sustaining free gift of God. It could easily be the pause that refreshes!

Originally Posted 08/25/2013

Listen to This Hymn