The Move—part 3

I’m sorry this didn’t post! For some reason, it became a draft instead of being posted. (A big thank you to Jessica for pointing out it didn’t post!) So here it is now—and I’m sure it will make the rest of the story more understandable!

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Curious to know what else happened? Read part 1, part 2, and part 4.

Surveying the loaded wagon, Mary helped two-year-old Robert climb onto the seat before she turned to say her final goodbyes to her friends gathered around. “Goodbye, Barbara.” She said gently, “I hope you’ll be as encouraging to the new pastor’s wife as you have been to me! Goodbye, Rhoda.” She paused for a final word with each woman, trying to hold the tears back as she moved on to each woman.

I will miss them, she thought as she hugged each one. Oh, how I will miss them! But I know this is the best for my family. After saying goodbye to each one, she turned to see John standing there. Squeezing his hand tightly for reassurance, she surveyed all her friends. Barbara was looking away, and a sniffle sounded on the warm spring air.

“Oh, I can’t bear it, ma’am!” Barbara cried, throwing herself on her friend. Mary held her tightly for several seconds. “I just can’t bear to think that I’ll nevu’ see you, or the little ‘uns again, ma’am. What will we do wit’out your kindly presence here? The village ‘ll be empty wit’out you ‘an yours here!”

“Aye, ‘twill be that,” Rhoda chimed in. “Isn’t there any way that we could convince you to stay here?”

“We believe this is what the Lord wants us to do.” Mary said, trying to hold her tears back. “Although I confess I will miss you all sorely.”

“Come, Barbara,” Rhoda sighed. “We know this’ll be good for the family, and if it wasn’t the Lord’s will it wouldn’t be happening.”

Barbara moved back, and Mary looked up at her husband again. “John—could we take one more walk around the flowers in the garden before we go? Just by ourselves? I’d like to see them one more time before we’re gone forever.”

“Of course.” The depressed friends stood waiting patiently by the wagon while the couple moved toward the garden for one last look together.

“John,” Mary said quietly as soon as they were out of earshot, “Oh John, I cannot stand saying goodbye! Is this really the right decision? It seemed so right at the beginning, but now…now when we have to leave everyone behind and go somewhere we don’t know anyone at all. Oh John, I’d almost rather just stay here, even if it is hard!”

“I know Mary.” John was not his usual self either. Clearly, he was distressed. “But won’t it be better for our family if we go?”

“It would—in a way.” Mary conceded, “But this is where all the children’s friends are as well. And we haven’t starved—God has always provided for everything, even the rent when that’s needed. We’ve lived well enough here.”

“I confess that I have been wishing we could stay as well.” John said after a moment’s silence. “Mary, let’s pray about this again. Perhaps—perhaps it is the Lord’s will that we stay after all.”

Together, they knelt among the dew-covered roses, and prayed for the Lord’s direction. The sunbeams fell on the two, warming the ground and making the sweet, light scent of roses float on the warm air. Being behind the house, their friends couldn’t see them but if they had they would have been very surprised. When they finished praying, Mary and John rose to their feet again. As she pulled her white shawl a little closer around her shoulders, Mary looked searchingly into her husband’s face.

“What do you think now, John?” She asked.

“I think we are to stay.” He said with finality.

Her voice caught in her throat for several seconds, and then she whispered, “John, I’m very happy that you’ve decided that. I feel the same.”

“Come,” he said, taking her hand. “We must tell the others. And get that wagon unloaded!” As they hurried around the side of the house, the quiet buzzing of the sad townsfolk ceased and everyone stared at the couple. “Friends,” John’s voice rang strong in the spring air, “We have decided—we will stay. Would any of you be willing to help us unload the wagon?”

For a second, a stunned silence filled the air. Then, a cheer rose from the crowd. Barbara hurried forward, tears of joy stealing down her cheeks. “Oh ma’am!” She cried, catching Mary’s hand, “Oh ma’am, this is the best news I’ve heard all year!”

“It is for me too!” Mary said, as she reached to help Robert down, and then gave Annie a hand. “Children, Father and I have decided that we will stay here in Wainsgate.” With joyful hearts and beaming faces, the people quickly helped the family move back into the little cottage, and the wagon clattered away—without them.

-Esther

Joyful Singing—part 4

Curious to know what happened last? Read part 1, part 2, and part 3.

“Mary, could you come practice this song with me?” John raised a leaf of paper, on which were written in neat rows a few lines of a song.

“Yes, John. Of course. Annie, sit still just a moment more, please.” Pulling the brush through the little girl’s hair one more time, she looked over her husband’s shoulder as he sang the song through once. The tune was familiar, and soon she was able to sing along as she deftly split the hair into three equal sections and braided it tightly before securing it to the girl’s head with a pin. Then, slipping the simple bonnet over the dark hair, she gave her daughter a kiss before sending her outside.

Once that job was done, she drew a stool up beside her husband. “Now that Annie is gone I can concentrate better. Will you want to sing this tomorrow?”

“Yes, I was hoping to. Should we go through it again, so you’ll get the words better?”

“Yes, of course.”

Together, their two voices raised in praise. His deeper bass notes and her higher soprano sounded sweet together. “Blest be the tie that binds / Our hearts in Christian love; / The fellowship of kindred minds / Is like to that above….”

“It’s beautiful, John!” Mary said when they had finished. “Did this…did the song come to you after what happened earlier this week?”

“Yes, Mary. Seeing the love of everyone, and feeling the sadness at leaving even in my own heart…and then their joy at finding out we were staying after all. It deeply impressed me. And I wanted to remember how that was. I know we did the right thing by staying here in Wainsgate.”

“This is home.” Mary said softly, fingering the edge of the paper. “I guess that farewell sermon last Sunday wasn’t farewell at all. And this will be a hello, in some ways.”

“It will indeed.” John laid the paper gently on the open page of the Bible, and stood up. “I have some more studying to do before tomorrow, so I should get busy on that. Would you be able to sing this with me tomorrow?”

“If the children behave, of course!” Mary rose and cheerfully set about preparing the noon meal. As she worked, she hummed. She was looking forward to tomorrow’s service—tomorrow’s homecoming service.

* * *

“And so we are here again,” John finished. “Here, to stay as long as the Lord wills it. And, for myself, I have hope that it will be for a long time.” He paused, gazed at the Bible for a moment, then glanced over the seated people. “Now, I have a special poem that came to me after the event of our almost departing to London.” In bold, clear tones he read it out. Then, he addressed everyone again. “This has a tune to it, one you all know well. Why don’t we sing it together?”

Then, reading the first verse out again, he struck up the tune and the congregation followed his lead. Together, the notes soared to the ceiling and beyond. They were words of hope, words of joy. Words expressing the elation they felt at being together again. And, above all the others, Mary’s voice rang the loudest as she sang out the jubilant words. This was home—and she knew that whatever would happen, the Lord was watching over them.

Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.

Before our Father’s throne
We pour our ardent prayers:
Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one,
Our comforts and our cares.

We share our mutual woes;
Our mutual burdens bear;
And often for each other flows
The sympathizing tear.

When we asunder part,
It gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be join’d in heart,
And hope to meet again.

This glorious hope revives
Our courage by the way;
While each in expectation lives,
And longs to see the day.

From sorrow, toil, and pain
And sin, we shall be free;
And perfect love and friendship reign
Thro’ all eternity.

 

 

Note: Like I said before, this is a true story. John and Mary Fawcett actually were real people living in the 18th – early 19th centuries. John lived from January 1739 – July 1817. In 1765, he joined the Baptist Church and eventually became pastor of Wainsgate Baptist Church in Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire, England. For seven years, he and his wife and growing family lived there, although his income was meager. When the opportunity arose in 1772 to pastor a larger church in London, he agreed to take it. He gave a farewell sermon at the Wainsgate church. After helping them pack the wagons with all their worldly goods, their friends bid them a tearful goodbye.

“Oh John, John!” Mary is reported to have said, “I cannot bear this!”

“Neither can I!” John responded, “And we will not go. Unload the wagons, and put everything back in its place.” His words were received with great elation, and soon they settled in again. In commemoration of the event, he penned this song—which is still widely sung today.

If you’d like to read more about this event, or more about John Fawcett, visit the following sites:

• Hymn Story: Blest Be the Tie That Binds – Lectionary.org
• John Fawcett (theologian) – Wikipedia.org
• Blest Be the Tie That Binds – CyberHymnal.org
• Reading the Hymns: Blest Be the Tie that Binds – Mere Orthodoxy.com

I hope you were blessed by this little story! Have you ever heard the story before?
-Esther

News from London—part 2

Curious to know what happened last? Read part 1.

“Mary! Mary, where are you?” Striding quickly from the bright warm sunlight outside into the darker room, John looked around for his wife.

Looking up from where she sat on the bed, Mary answered, “I’m here. What is it, John?” His voice held a ring of hope in it that she hadn’t heard for quite a while. “What’s happened?”

“Mary, the post just came. You wouldn’t believe what the letter says!” She waited, tense. “You remember that a few weeks ago we received word that the pastor of the Carter’s Lane Baptist Church in London was retiring, and how I sent a letter saying that after praying about the situation I’d be interested in serving there?”

Gasping, Mary leaned forward. “You mean…?”

Opening the letter again, he scanned through it as he talked. “The letter is from a Mr. Pitts in London. He says that they have decided that they are willing to have me be their pastor. Oh, Mary! Do you know what this means? I will still be able to minister to the people, but the income will be much larger, and we won’t have to worry about the rent money anymore!”

“Oh John, that’s wonderful!” Rising to her feet, she hugged her husband tightly. “This sounds like the answer to all our prayers!”

“It is, I believe.” He said, “But Mary, would you want to move to London?”

“Why ever not, John?” She pulled back, stared into his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I? If you will be able to minister even better to people, and our family would be better able to live on the higher income, then of course I’d want to!”

“I’m glad you feel that way, dear.” He said gently, “I was just afraid you might not want to—seeing how you have so many friends here.”

“I’ll go wherever you go, John.” She said simply. “When do you think we’ll move?”

“Mr. Pitts says to come as soon as possible. They’ll help us get a wagon for our belongings, and I think it will probably take a week or so to get everything arranged.”

“I’ll be able to get everything ready by then.” Glancing around the small one-room house, she chuckled. “With as few things as we have, we’ll be ready in no time! Now—I should go check on the children. Last I knew they were outside, but it’s been quiet out there for a while so….”

“You better go look after them.” John agreed, a twinkle in his eye. “Who knows what trouble Robert could be getting into?”

…to be continued next week!
-Esther

A Pot of Broth—part 1

Introduction

A while ago, I heard the story behind the song “Blest Be the Tie That Binds” by John Fawcett, and it impacted me greatly. The story has always stuck with me, and I thought it would be fun to retell it my own way—trying to keep the historical facts in place, but taking liberties in recreating the story the way I thought best to portray it when there were no historical facts to give me guidance. The following is part one of four of the story I have recreated. John and Mary are real people, and what happens really did happen. All others in the story are fictitious—I do know that John and Mary had children at this time, but I haven’t been able to find their names or how many there were when this happened.

I hope you’ll be encouraged as you read.

 

A Pot of Broth—part 1

“John,” Mary was worried. “The rent is due any day, and the children are sick. We need to find something new—soon.” She turned from looking at the chilly, gray spring day, and closed the door firmly behind her.

“I know, Mary.” John pushed his black hair away from his forehead, resting his hand on his face for several seconds before taking it down and looking into his wife’s eyes again. “I know, dear, but we must be patient. The Lord has always provided for us before, has He not? We must trust….”

“John, look at Annie here! She badly needs broth, and there is nothing but a few shriveled onions on the shelf and some salt-pork outside the door! John, if we don’t find a parish that can pay you more than just food once in a while, I’m afraid we’ll all starve!” Bursting into tears, she covered her face with her hands for several quiet seconds.

“Mary, come here.” John stood up, and moved toward his wife. Drawing her to himself gently, he spoke softly in her ear. “I know it’s hard dear, but we need to keep trusting Him anyway. Come, let’s pray.”

Shuddering sobs still shook her body, but she stood silently and he led in prayer. “Lord, you know how we need your guidance. You know how the children are sick and we have hardly any food in the house. Please help us to find another place if it is your will, and for now please protect us with your Almighty Hand.”

“And Lord—” she knew her voice was rough with tears, but it didn’t matter. “Please, give me patience and help the children to get better.”

“In Jesus’ name,” John said. Together they breathed “Amen.”

“Mary, we must trust. Jesus said that ‘Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it you.’* We must trust that He will provide.”

“I know, John. I find it hard sometimes to do that. Thank you for praying—it has made things seem better somehow.” Squaring her shoulders, she went to the bucket of water and dipped some out into a pot which she hung over the fire to boil.

Someone knocked at the door, and suddenly fear grabbed her heart. Is this the landlord? Did he come for his payment? “John?” she tremulously asked, and by his concerned face as he stepped quickly to the door, she knew he mirrored her thoughts.

Unlatching the door, he swung it wide. “Pastor John!” It was a woman’s voice, Barbara’s to be exact! Gratefully, Mary moved to stand by her husband.

“Barbara! It’s so good to see you!” Warmly, she hugged the woman and then gently took her hand. “Please come in. Would you like some tea?”

“Oh, I can’t stay long.” Barbara said, “But I thought you up here might be a needin’ somethin’ fer your family—seein’ some of your children are sick and all, so I thought I might bring a chicken and a few potatoes by.” As she spoke, she pushed a basket in Mary’s hands and handed a small sack to John.

Hearing the woman’s words, Mary’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh Barbara, thank you! God must have sent you—I was just thinking some broth would do Annie good!” She gave the woman another hug. “Thank you.”

The woman turned, and hurried down the path. As she latched the gate behind her she called, “Glad I could help! God bless ye!”

As they watched her go, John glanced at his wife. “The Lord provides.” He said confidently, clutching the sack firmly.

“He does indeed.” The tears still gently flowed down Mary’s cheeks. The departing figure turned to wave once, and she returned the gesture. “He is faithful.”

“Now, I should go take care of this chicken.” John chuckled. “I have a feeling there will be a little girl here who’d be glad for some broth.” Moving out of the doorway, he went about his task.

Mary continued to gaze at the place where she had seen the woman disappear over the hill. “He provides,” she whispered, before she stepped to the table and began cutting up some potatoes to stew with the chicken.

*John 16:23

Sometimes I Wonder - Music Post

"Sometimes I Wonder" is a song I heard for the first time in July 2012 right after a young man's life was snatched unexpectedly from this world. As I pondered the words of the song that night, tears filled my eyes as I thought of the joy that surrounded this young man and all the believers that have gone before us and I wondered. I wondered of what heaven must be and what glory must be surrounding them.

As one reads through Scripture, one catches a glimpse of what is waiting for us, but if you are anything like me, it is more than you can fathom. 

• No night there
• Streets of pure gold
• The lion laying down with the Lamb
• No tears, pain, or sorrow there

Though only a few of the glories that we, as believers, will experience on that great day. When a loved one passes I often spend time wondering just how heaven must be for them. 

Sometimes I wonder!

I challenge you to place your eyes on the Lord as you think about the glories of heaven. When my eyes are fixed on the glories of heaven and what awaits me, so often the troubles of this world don't seem so big. Not one of us knows when our time is up and when we pass into eternity, will our loved ones wonder about the glory that welcomed us? Or with bitter tears in their eyes, will they weep because we weren't ready to meet our Saviour?

Heaven awaits you! The joys there are beyond what we can even imagine. 

3And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God. 

4And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

5And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful. 

6And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely. 

7He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son. Revelation 21:3-7

Are you ready? He is coming soon! It may be tonight, or it may be tomorrow. Answer His call today.

Sometimes I wonder about the glories of Heaven. Do you wonder?

Blessings to you!

Teach Me How to Pray

Today, I’m just popping in quick to share with you a song that has been both blessing and slightly challenging for me.

“Teach Me How to Pray”, by Jim Reeves

(Daddy, my daddy teach me how to pray.)
One night a sleepy little boy knelt beside my bed.
He smiled and looked into my eyes and this is what he said,
“Daddy, my daddy, you’ve taught me lots today.
So daddy, my daddy teach me how to pray.

“You brought me home a brand new kite, and showed me how to fly.
And there ain’t no other kid who’s dad can knock a ball so high!
I’d like to thank God for you but I don’t know what to say.
So daddy, my daddy teach me how to pray.”

I had to turn and leave his room, and he began to cry.
I didn’t want my boy to know—but so did I.
His best pal forsaken him, but what was there to say?
For daddy, his daddy had forgotten how to pray.
(Daddy, my daddy teach me how to pray.)

This song was more written for parents and especially fathers, but I think that this is the kind of song all of us can learn from. No matter what our station in life, there are things that we know that we can pass on to other people. The joy of Jesus. How being a Christian really is—happy and peaceful, not because we have no storms but because He is always with us, even in the darkest storm.

I know I haven’t pulled everything there is to learn from the song out, but I think this is a start.

May God bless you as you begin another week to glorify and praise Him!
~Esther

I Am Not Skilled to Understand…

This morning, I’m remembering a beautiful song written by Dorothy Greenwell, “I Am Not Skilled to Understand”.

I am not skilled to understand
What God hath willed, what God hath planned;
I only know that at His right hand
Is One Who is my Saviour!

I take Him at His word indeed;
“Christ died for sinners”—this I read;
For in my heart I find a need
Of Him to be my Saviour!

That He should leave His place on high
And come for sinful man to die,
You count it strange? So once did I,
Before I knew my Saviour!

And oh, that He fulfilled may see
The travail of His soul in me,
And with His work contented be,
As I with my dear Saviour!

Yea, living, dying, let me bring
My strength, my solace from this Spring;
That He Who lives to be my King
Once died to be my Saviour!

This song became especially dear to me right after we moved here to New Zealand. Some of our friends had come with us, and they came two months before us. When we got here, we soon found out that during those two months they had changed some of their doctrines. We did not believe the same as they did, and they were not willing to work with us if we had different doctrines. In the end, even though we were willing to work with them, they moved away.

During that turbulent time, we began going to a gospel assembly an hour north of where we live. This was one of the songs that we sang a lot during that time. We sang about “I am not skilled to understand/What God hath willed, what God hath planned…” while the upheaval over clashing doctrines was going on. We couldn’t understand why God had willed this to happen. We were new to a country, half way around the world from home, and experiencing difficulties hardly two months into our stay.

Looking back, though, I can see (at least partially) why God allowed it. We learned a lot during that time. Most important of all the things we learned, I think, was the fact that if we trust God, He is well able to bring us through. But it takes faith. Faith in the fact that God does have a plan for our lives, a reason for why He’s letting us go through the thing that we’re going through.

The only reason He lets us go through the valley is so we can praise Him—and trust Him more—on the mountain.

You know the really neat thing about this song, though? While we were going through that time, we sang it a lot. Since then, we’ve only sang it a few times. I think God had us sing that song, at the perfect time, as an encouragement.

Now, it’s your turn. Have you ever had a song affect your life like this? In what way? What did God teach you through that? Share it in the comments; I’m sure it would be encouraging for other people as well as me!

Because of Him,
Esther

At Cavalry

 

William R. Newell (1868-1956) is remembered fondly as a pastor, evangelist, Bible teacher, author, conference speaker and writer of the beloved hymn At Calvary. And he is remembered as a humble man who recognized that it was only by the grace of God that he was able to accomplish so many good things.

William was a very troubled and wayward teenager. In desperation, his father wrote to the president of Moody Bible Institute, and begged him to allow the enrollment of his son. Since the college was open to serious Bible students, the president was at first resistant, but finally agreed that Newell would be enrolled with the proviso that he would meet with the president daily, and would take his studies seriously.

Read more about William Newell here. What an amazing testimony!

Have a blessed weekend!
~Esther

A Song for your Saturday

Today, I thought I’d share a song I enjoy listening to, sung by the Eshes.

He IS God! :) How has He shown you how great He is today?

~Esther