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Saturday, October 26, 2019

How My Soul Praises The LORD

1962 Hymnal for Church, Home and School by Hope Publishing
1928 The Book of Common Prayer
1937 Hymnal


Some have described me as: a spiritually minded person, a faithful person, strong in my faith...may I say honestly that my faith is a gift from the GOD of my salvation. I am only strong, because HE has met me at my lowest places and set my feet on firm ground. Everyday is an opportunity from God and every bad thing that has happened to me was a reason to praise HIM. Often it is easier for me to praise in the bad times as that is an act of faith.
   Currently I find myself in, "a good place", but needing to get out and stretch my wings. This past four years I have been in an Unchurched mode. It has been the longest stretch in my life that I did not have a Home Church. My Church Community has always been a part of life.
  As a child in Central Oregon we attended church whenever the doors were open and both sets of Grandparents attended the same fellowship. I hear often how the first five years are crucial in the development of a child. My First Five were all about extended family, church family and being outside as much as possible. "Deena go outside and get out from under my Feet", was a daily statement from my Mother.🤣 
  Through the first 18 years my church family were the people who cared the most about me. I didn't have an outside of church social circle. As I married and move into a nomadic lifestyle for the next seven years, I searched for that sense of belonging and never found it again. As my children came into my life I craved for them to have community in church.
  It was my desire that my children have people in their lives that would encourage them in their faith. This was a difficult journey as their father had some odd ideas about church. The children were home taught in the Bible and home educated with the umbrella of the public schools. I worked to support us all their growing up years. I tried very hard to not speak ill of their father, however, being in a relationship for nearly 30 years with a man who did not respect me as a wife or even a person made it very difficult. 
  Recently, a woman asked me, "How could you continue to have faith in GOD when your husband was using God to tear you down and belittle you?" My reality and what got me through all those difficult years was that MY GOD  was not his God. My faith had nothing to do with my husband's religious views.  My faith is a personal relationship with Jesus, The Messiah, The Creator; GOD the Father, and the Holy Spirit.

Where is Home

  So, in my recent mental ramblings, I began trying to figure out why in four years of searching I could not feel at home, or at peace in a place of worship in Redding, California.
   Let's go back to my Nomadic Years. I visited the Crystal Cathedral with a coworker in Garden Grove. From hometown church of 100 tops to a glass Castle with a wide screen in the parking lot where people could come to church in their pajamas! 
  Then I returned home for a year, but my parents moved away and the church was going through some major changes. Secularism had been creeping in the doors of the conservative church since the 1960's.  The Catholics surprised me by being some of the first to welcome this movement with open arms. I recently read an article that confirmed my suspicions on what had happened to my church. Leaving home for only three years had opened my eyes and broadened  my world view. My hope was in the Lord, but I was confused about what had happening in the church and my world at large.
   At the end of my Nomadic years I discovered Christian Radio. I have always been able to control my mood by the music I listened to whether: rock, classical, country... Each genera had a way of changing my attitude about life and people.  As I have reflected on my own history with Contemporary Christian Music I know that it has been a mind numbing way to avoid feeling all that was going on in my life.
Each day when it had been the worst I would find comfort in the songs from the radio and in my "hymnal of the heart" that was stored in my brain. 
I remember a difficult time when I had to work a lot more than I wanted and my youngest said something to the effect of, "I want my Mommie back who puts clothes on the line and sang hymns." She may not remember that day, but it was heart wrenching to hear those words from my baby girl. 

  A New Beginning

I am no longer in a difficult time. My husband divorced me four years ago this past week. My children are all grown and have great lives. They did have a rough time growing up surrounded by mental illness. They are all compassionate and loving people because of what God has allowed. I have continued my search for a Home Church.
Recently, I came to a realization that my First Five Years had shaped my: Call to Worship. I am blessed to have a copy of the old Hymnal from my Mama's piano bench. She would say, that she played the piano for her own amusement. I think fondly of trying to follow along singing the songs in the hallway as she banged around on the family piano.
  In my preteens my voice began developing. I remember one day at church after a hymn was sung, when a friend's boyfriend looked me in the eye and said, "That is not normal." He wasn't the nicest guy, but he spoke truth. I could never play a musical instrument,but after years of piano lessons and singing in church choirs; I can read music, have near perfect pitch and sang  1st chair Second Soprano all four years of high school.
  During the Nomadic years my music was only radio top/pop. In the next years the Redding Christian Station was played in our house  from morning to night. My girls began to go to Christian concerts in their pre-teens and music became a mood stabilizer for all of my household.
  But in my husband's religious wanderings he hit the nerve of  our family's love for music with a period of Gregorian Chant. From the computer speaker or the bomb box it was never pretty. It was just another form of torture that made us all want to hide. In the process it turned my thoughts away from the church he was pushing on us at the time. Unfortunately, I could not visit this church again until a few weeks ago.

A Call to Worship

  Two weeks ago I decided that I wanted to explore the Anglican Church. As I researched the liturgy and the order of service my soul became peaceful. I have that old ,worn hymn book of my mother's and an older hymn book given to me by a dearly departed friend. In reviewing the Preface of the older hymnal I realized it is an Anglican Hymnal. On Sunday we sang,"A Mighty Fortress Is Our God, page 551". It was the same hymn number in the little, older book! I was so excited I had to email the deacon. 
  Studying I Corinthians the past month has also help to show me that this is the way that I should go... The order of service in the 1960's Baptist church was not so different from the order of service in the Anglican church. There were/are differences in practices, but my spirit is telling me this is were I should be worshiping. 
  In upcoming blog posts I will elaborated on some of the reasons and how I see a need for us to consider what has become of church. A friend this week responded to an observation that was bothering me, "It is just cultural." Well, I'm not comfortable with all the cultural stuff at church. In a day when we are expected to give tolerance to so many things that I am not comfortable with in the base of my beliefs: at work, school and in society...I would hope that the church I choose to worship at is not someplace where I need to except, "Well it is a cultural thing." 
We each have a journey. As mentioned above, I don't wish the journey I have taken on anyone. I have sang on the stage of every kind of church worship service: Bethel in Redding to 1st Baptist in Cottonwood, Christian Women's Retreats to  Christian Working Women's Club in Susanville. I have lived the music dispute from the inside out in the past 50 years. I am an artist, a teacher, but most of all I am a follower of Jesus Christ.
Madeleine L'Engle , Walking on Water  At the end of the day, here's what I care about whether in thought, word or deed: 

“The journey homewards. Coming home. That's what it's all about. The journey to the coming of the Kingdom. That's probably the chief difference between the Christian and the secular artist--the purpose of the work, be it story or music or painting, is to further the coming of the kingdom, to make us aware of our status as children of God, and to turn our feet toward home.”
We don't all have a radio on the counter in the kitchen (well I do, but I'm pretty old school here at The Nest.) I love all of the Christian Music that has been crossing the line of Pop culture. However, with my background I find that contemporary Christian music and the coffee cup need to stay in the car when I go into a place of worship on Sunday morning.
I am not condemning that culture, but it is not my culture. The more Christian artists who crossover to the secular music production world the better. I pray for them to stay strong in their faith. I chose not to have a Television in my home. For two years I couldn't afford WiFi and was able to find a little radio that picked up the FM signal to have my Christian Music.
Music is  my first language. I am thankful that I have found a place to worship that continues singing the traditional hymns of my childhood as well as hundreds of years before me. These two hymnals have so much truth. I know many church worship leaders who diligently check the songs that are sung on Sunday for Biblical Truth. These hymns were chosen the very same way.
I don't ask you to stop worshiping at a church with contemporary Christian music, or even to leave that coffee cup in the car. What I ask is that you find an old dusty hymn book, look up some songs from you youth,  or watch a video of A Might Fortress is Our God . Our culture has been so often to throw out the baby with the bathwater. Historically, the Church has allowed secularism to declare how we worship. I am going to practice in a church where it is traditional until the Lord shows me another way.May Jesus Christ be praised.