Call it a sheltered Yankee upbringing, but I never heard hymns played on a banjo until just now. I like it!
This young woman plays He Leadeth Me (one of my favorites) and I’ll Fly Away. She slips a little, here and there, but I don’t think we ought to mind. I’m sure God doesn’t.
Something about this goes to my heart–for which I give thanks.
This is a hymn that I’ve always loved, sung to a melody I’ve never heard before. You know I like my hymns done simply, but sometimes a full orchestra is best.
Jesus’ remark, “The Son of Man hath not where to lay his head,” hits home with me, and I feel uncomfortable with a lot of ostentation when it comes to worship. But Christ is also King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and entitled to all glory: it is His right. And it is our glory to render to him, joyfully, what is due.
I’m supposed to vacuum here today, elbow permitting. Wish me luck.
I do have some hymn requests lined up, and I’ll post them all. But this one, if you don’t mind, is for me. Something about several generations of a family praising God together, making a joyful noise unto the Lord…
I haven’t looked at any news yet. I still have a nasty hole in my elbow. And would you believe it? I fell off my bike so hard, I tore one of my shoes. So today I have to run off to Payless before it rains some more.
But first, my spiritual vitamins…
Usually I like my hymns simpler than this; but today I ask for something to blow a fierce, fresh wind through my mind: a hymn with a full orchestra and a couple hundred people singing it for all they’re worth. This is from St. David’s Hall in Cardiff, Wales.
Went to see my aunt, which was upsetting, and cranked out a News With Views column: I need to hear my King praised. I need to know He will come at the appointed time and cleanse the earth so God the Father can regenerate it.
Come, Lord Jesus–come!
Before I go rushing off to the doctor, the pharmacy, the supermarket, yatta-yatta, let me quickly post this hymn, suggested by reader Ron. Ron, this one’s for you.
Man, I’m getting tired of all this doctoring. Sing one for me, folks.
Several sets of English lyrics have been written for Hyfridol, depending on which denomination’s hymnal you’re using.
These lyrics, Love Divine, All Loves Excelling, are by Charles Wesley. There are Catholic lyrics, too: Alleluia, Sing to Jesus.
I don’t speak a word of Welsh, but I like this melody best with its Welsh lyrics. I let the music, and the tone of the choir, speak to me.
This is the classic Welsh hymn, Hyfrydol, performed with Scottish bagpipes, modern organ, in a church in Kentucky. It’s one of my very favorite hymns.
Sure is an awful lot of evil and distressing national news today, ain’t it? But I shall try to follow the example of Judah the Maccabee, who, although engaged in a life-and-death struggle for his country and his faith, would not fight a battle on the Sabbath day, unless he was attacked: this was how he proclaimed the sovereignty of God. No, I will not write up the news today.
Sit back and let the hymn wash over you. God is in the midst of us. He has not forgotten us, and He hears us when we cry to Him.
Having received no hymn requests for this morning, I chose this one–just because it came into my mind. A good old hymn.
But of course we don’t trust God, neither do we obey Him. Maybe we trust in gravity waves. Or in people who say they’ve just discovered gravity waves. We nod sagely and mutter, “Uh-huh, yep, gravity waves,” as if we had any idea at all of what we were talking about.
God have mercy on us.
This is not the first time someone’s asked for this hymn, and it won’t be the last.
A fine way to start off the day.
Before I go rushing off to sit in the doctor’s waiting room, let me post this good old hymn.
There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the Most High… Psalm 46
Whatever the day brings, may the Holy Spirit fortify me. I’ll need it.