O come, Thou Key of David, come, And open wide our heavenly home; Make safe the way that leads on high, And close the path to misery. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, O come, Thou Lord of might, Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai’s height, In ancient times did’st give the Law, In cloud, and majesty and awe. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, O come, Emmanuel And ransom captive Israel That mourns in lonely exile here Until the Son of God appear Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free Thine own from Satan’s tyranny From depths of Hell Thy people save And give them victory o’er the grave Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer Our spirits by Thine advent here Disperse the gloomy clouds of night And death’s dark shadows put to flight. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.
It isn’t that I had no time for reading this weekend. I spent most of Saturday and Sunday tucked up close to a window, book in hand, enjoying the cool breeze. It’s only that I played Gungor’s just-released album as background music, but the story this album tells refuses to stay in the background. I kept lowering my book in order to pay better attention to Gungor’s stories.
Ghosts Upon the Earth is an album* to listen to from start to end, from God creating (“Let There Be”) to creation worshipping (“Every Breath”).
I’ve written quite a bit about waiting. This song, “The Fall,” puts it so much better than I ever could, especially when the line “turn your face to me,” becomes a duet.
I have sometimes wondered lately if I am waiting on God or if God is waiting on me. I think that the same can be said of our world. We look around at all the misery and wonder why God seems silent. Some pray, “God, turn your face to me.”
But how can we forget that God whispers the same words to us? God waits for his creation, he waits for us, and he cries, “Turn your face to me, turn your face to me.”
* When I introduce music on this blog, it’s because I’ve already purchased the song (or, more likely, the entire album) for myself, and I think you should too!
(That's my brother-in-law and two of my nieces perched at the top. Not pictured: my own children who had just fallen into the water and sat, crying, in a wretched, soggy pile at the water's edge.)
The name of this blog ("There is a River") comes from Psalm 46:4: "There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells."
I didn't know what this blog would look like when I began writing it in May. I think I sensed that it would not be topic-driven, and this still seems accurate to me today. Instead, I would say that this blog is focused on a particular perspective rather than a particular subject.
This blog explores the perspective of a Jesus-following writer, reader, wife, and mother who is looking for hope and beauty wherever it can be found.
I like to think that my spiritual perspective is not an example of Christian pie-in-the-sky thinking but, rather, more like pie-right-here-and-now with the promise of so much more to come.
But, really, my perspective has little to do with pie and everything to do with water.
"There is a river" points us to a place, the place where God's glory dwells, but, even more importantly, it testifies to a presence that is not contained by the flood-gates of heaven. This river washes us, it transforms us, and it quenches our thirst forever. It is here and now as well as there and then.
It is "the fountain of life" (Psalm 36:9). It is the man of sorrows who promises that whoever "believes in me will never be thirsty" (John 6:35).
I've been listening to the new album by Josh Garrels. It is beautiful and wise (and free! Download your own copy here). In the song "Farther Along," he sings, "go down into the river" and "let the flood wash me."
My hope is that "There is a River" (the blog) reads a lot like this song sounds. Click through below to track # 3 and enjoy.
