Mendelssohn and a Psalm

I waited for the Lord, he inclined unto me,
he heard my complaint.
O blest are they that hope and trust in him.

From the ESV:

I waited patiently for the Lord;
  he inclined to me and heard my cry.
Blessed is the man who makes the Lord his trust.  Psalm 40:1, 4a.

Psalm 131, a Song of Trust and Hope

Oh Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
My my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
  too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
  like a weaned child with its mother;
  like a weaned child is my soul within me.
O Israel, hope in the Lord
  from this time forth and forevermore.



“Humility has nothing to do with depreciating ourselves and our gifts in ways we know to be untrue.  Even humble attitudes can be masks for pride.  Humility is that freedom from ourself which enables us to be in positions in which we have neither recognition nor importance, neither power nor validity, and even experience depravation, and yet have joy and delight.  It is the freedom of knowing that we are not at the center of the universe, not even the center of our own private universe.”

From the journals of Samuel Rutherford

Gospel Centered

From John R. W. Stott’s The Message of Galatians, here his commentary on Galatians chapter 1, verse 7:

To tamper with the gospel is always to trouble the church, because the church is created and lives by the gospel.  Indeed, the church’s greatest troublemakers (now as then) are not those outside who oppose, ridicule and persecute it, but those inside who try to change the gospel.  It is they who trouble the church.  Conversely, the only way to be a good churchman is to be a good gospel-man.  The best way to serve the church is to believe and to preach the gospel.

A Black Hole and A Disciplined Mind

This was written by Shirley Wickers when going through chemotherapy and radiation. Many of us can identify with her despair and feelings.

Black Hole: A Prayer for Those Going Through Dark Places

O God, I’m right back in that limbo world again:
      can’t feel You close to me, can’t feel anything.
It seemed as if things were fine, walking in the light.
      Then suddenly, panic: it’s all dark, I’m drowning.
Worries, no more than they were before,
      and yet they are so heavy, so unsolvable, so endless, sucking me down.
 And I am listening to the enemy who is damning me to death with his sly lies.
Doctors tell us that feeling low is just like any other illness:
      brought on by stress, hormones, exhaustion, debility.
Then why do I feel so guilty about it,
      so powerless to drag myself out, so unguarded?
Where is my knowledge of you being there right beside me;
      part of me while my feelings scream that because I’m like this I have failed you,
      therefore I am less than nothing?
Useless rubbish?
Please give me the disciplined mind to refuse to entertain these trespassing thoughts
      which have no right to be there because I am your child;
To wait quietly in faith until my receiving equipment is repaired
      and switched on again and I can feel you filing me with your big heart,
      forgiving me, empowering me, and remobilizing me,
      just where you’ve been all the time.
Quoted by Alistair Begg in the second part of a sermon titled The Ascension.  This is my very unpoetic interpretation of the poem script.


Now Hath Christ Arisen!


This joyful Eastertide,
Away with sin and sorrow!
My love, the Crucified,
Hath sprung to life this morrow.

Had Christ, that once was slain,
Ne’er burst his three-day prison
Our faith had been in vain:
But now hath Christ arisen, arisen, arisen!

My flesh in hope shall rest,
And for a season slumber:
Till trump from east to west
Shall wake the dead in number.

Death’s flood hath lost his chill,
Since Jesus crossed the river:
Lover of souls, from ill
My passing soul deliver.

Our choir will sing this Dutch carol tomorrow.