Up the Sunbeam

Voices lifted in praise, a soaring song swells through the gathered worshipers. Everything is beautifully prepared for filling the sanctuary with joy. Why is it then, that so many faces wear such pained expressions? True enough, some people are bringing praise in spite of tremendous pain in their lives. I have been there myself , and know that sometimes the only praise we can bring is saturated with tears and laced with pain. That is perfectly legitimate and understandable--these offerings are immeasurably precious to God.  It is not to this situation I am directing my thoughts. So here's what I've noticed--I have been in churches all my life, and there is a common phenomenon that has me puzzled.  Some people, and sometimes even whole churches, get into a habit of acting as though the facial expression most indicative of spirituality is somber, serious, on-the-verge-of-tears and twisted into a mask of pain. These sorrowful expressions can be about as pleasant and invi...

--   In his Gospel, Dr. Luke tells the story of two of Jesus' disciples walking from Jerusalem to a village called Emmaus. It was a 7-mile walk over hilly, sometimes steep, rocky terrain traversing a road subject to the dangers of robbers and thieves. They had timed their trip to have them at their destination while it was still daylight and just in time to be home for supper. It was Sunday afternoon, a mere 48 hours or so since they had seen their world come to a devastating end. Their beloved Jesus, the One they believed was their long-awaited Messiah, had been crucified and buried in a tomb. With Him was buried everything they had believed was true. They had heard that some of the women had seen Jesus alive that morning, but it all seemed like a cruel joke, or the imaginations of minds overcome with grief. As they walked together, they talked and reflected and wrestled with the implications of their loss. Somewhere along the way another man came and joined them as they walk...

-- The mallets touch the cymba l, b arely moving at first, then rising higher and faster with each repetition until the cymbal sing s out in a crescendo of sound. I have come to love percussion, all the more because I've learned to single it out in the listening because of Drummer-Boy, who came to the world with percussion in his soul. A cymbal is a beautiful instrume nt, both to look at and to hear--it can be a tinkling timepiece or a crashing splash of sound, a metallic accent, or the clanging main event. Did you ever notice that a cymbal is silent until the drummer strikes it? Something has to happen to make it vibrate and send sound waves through space. It can't ring of its own accord. There is more music in my home. She-So-Sweet sets her bo w o n v iolin strings and calls from them the sweetest music. Her music can make you laugh, break your heart or set your spirit to glorious flights of fancy. Sometimes my heart nearly aches with the beauty of it. As l...

"What I'm about to tell you is true. Anyone who will not receive God's kingdom like a little child will never enter it. Luke 8:17 (NIrV) She was only 7 or 8, riding in one of the youngest divisions in the junior rodeo. She was clearly on a very well-trained and experienced horse and her confidence in him was unmarred by fear or apprehension or pressure of any kind. This beautiful little girl rode in every event for girls of her age group, and the entire day she rode with her feet out of the stirrups and a smile that never left her face. She was the picture of pure joy! Everything seemed to exhilarate and delight her. You could see that she rode every race to win, but it was the doing of it that she loved--winning could only be icing on the cake for her. She loved the wind in her hair, the sun on her face and the horse beneath her that gave her wings to fly. Ever since that day, when I think of the "joy of the Lord," this is the picture that comes to mind. No...