Music

When I Leave the Room

If you are an American, you’d have to be living under a rock to have not heard about Grammy-nominated gospel singer Natalie Grant walking out of the Grammys. The story is all over the place.

On her facebook the night of the Grammy’s she wrote:

We left the Grammy’s early. I’ve many thoughts about the show tonight, most of which are probably better left inside my head. But I’ll say this: I’ve never been more honored to sing about Jesus and for Jesus. And I’ve never been more sure of the path I’ve chosen.

She got so many people slinging mud at her that she had to follow up with this:

I’ve tried to read all of the comments on my previous post but I can’t respond to them all. Most of you have always been so supportive and encouraging to me & I’m grateful. It does sadden me when people argue, judge and hurl insults at each other from both sides of the fence. I’m not going to engage in arguments, but just have a few things I’d like to say:
I NEVER said I left during any particular performance. I only said I left early.
I never pointed out any one particular performance, I only said I had many thoughts about the entire show, which were best left inside my head and that is where they will stay. So those who say I condemned one performance but then condoned others clearly did not read the post.
What I DID say is this: I am honored to be a part of the Christian music community. I’ve had many people throughout my career ask why I never tried to go in to mainstream music and last night was a beautiful reminder that I love singing about Jesus and FOR Jesus.
I’ve judged no one. I hate no one. And I believe that every person has been created in the image of God. I will never stand on a street corner and wave a sign, I won’t use my platform to engage in political arguments that will only divide and not unite. I will continue to pray that my life will be my message. I do have my own personal convictions that I live by, and I will continue to work out my own salvation with fear and trembling before the Lord. (Philippians 2:12)
I was honored to be nominated for 2 Grammy awards last night. I’m so grateful that NARAS and The Grammys continue to recognize the contribution that gospel and Christian music make to the world. And I’m so thrilled for those who won in my categories. And I can say that with all sincerity.
My last thought:
“I am not ashamed of the gospel of Jesus for it is the power of God who brings salvation to ALL who believe.”
Romans 1:16

~ Natalie

I had never even heard of Natalie Grant before this incident was reported, but I was deeply touched by this song of hers that a friend just shared with me. I thought maybe she had written it in response to the backfire, but after listening I was no longer even thinking about the Grammy’s. Listen, and tell me what you are thinking about when she gets through.

When the song was over, I was thinking about my loved ones and what it is like to leave them, and how much I pray for their safety, protection, and happiness. I was also thinking about my Jesus and how holy and peaceful it feels to trust in Him and know without a doubt that one day I will look at Him in the eyes unashamed and tell Him that I did my best to live up to His name that I took upon me at baptism.

When I leave the room, I want people to know that I fully expect to meet my Jesus on the other side and that I will continue to trust Him to watch over whoever is left standing on the other side of the door. Whether they be Hollywood, gay, the Pope, the President of the United States, a cult member, my child, my friend, an alcoholic, a murderer, my favorite librarian…whatever and whoever they are…I know Jesus is watching over them and will make all things right according to whether or not they will accept Him in his terms. I do not stand in judgement, but I do stand for Him to the best of my ability and I do hope that someday we can all stand with Him together on the other side of the door. But guess what? The only way to get there is to leave the room. I kind of hope more people will start taking that part of the plan a little bit more serious. This life isn’t about seeking our own carnal desires, it’s about proving ourselves to God that we will choose Him no matter what comes our way.

I applaud you Natalie Grant.

Happy Frozen kind of Friday

Happy Friday y’all.

It is the weirdest thing looking back at old photos.
Especially as a mother who is not just intimate with the toddler face
but also the current one that is so very different and bigger and older.
I find my heart traveling back to meet my baby girl where she was
and then I have to pull it back to the present.

The present consists of oatmeal {still her favorite} for breakfast
along with Frozen video after video.
This is her current favorite.

She just finished her breathing treatments for
her poor asthmatic induced cough that never seems to cease.

Then we are off to her favorite place. PRE-SCHOOL.
{It happens to be one of my favorite places too.}
Instead of getting my physical workout during pre-school today
I am looking forward to an emotional session of marriage counseling.

Then I am taking the kids out to lunch.
I totally bribed them NOT to do the science fair.
Sometimes, I am an unconventional underachieving cool mom like that.
Maybe I will look up a science project I can do at McDonald’s.
{I think we should buy an extra hamburger and let it sit out awhile.

Then I will be babysitting and helping my hubby pack for a “frozen” scout camp this weekend.
It’s too bad he doesn’t have a pet reindeer to keep him warm.

I want to be happy.

Last year I read Stephanie Nielsen’s post on “happiness is a choice“.
[As some of you may know Stephanie was in a life-altering plane crash.]

I marvel at how the hardest trials in our lives teach us the most necessary lessons.

Here is a great quote from her memoir Heaven is Here:
{Go here, for my book review.}

“But even with all that others were willing to offer me, I realized along the way that ultimately nothing they did could make me happy. I felt comforted by family and my faith, but peace was different from happiness. At first I thought stubbornly that the only thing that would make me happy was for my life to look like it did before the accident. But no one could give that to me, and no one else could make me happy. Happiness was my choice, and though it is hard won, I am the only person who can stand in the way of it.”

I wholeheartedly concur that happiness is a choice. I often hear people complain about their lives and I understand that complaining is a tempting choice (one I give into often), but I guess I have learned the hard way that complaining doesn’t accomplish anything. In fact, if anything, complaining does nothing but make everything seem worse.

I concur that happiness is a choice, but I like how Stephanie put it: It is hard won. I don’t think we just say, “O.k. I am going to be happy,” and then we are magically happy. I think that we say, “I am going to choose happiness,” and then we alter our choices to make sure we are happy. It requires a lot of exercise to do this, but I have found that I have become a lot better at happiness as I have matured.

Here are the ways I have changed to become a happier person:

I try no to complain and count my blessings instead.
I take care of myself and no longer feel guilty about it.
I try to live vulnerably.
I have positive self-talk and work every day on loving myself.
I change and set healthy boundaries and try to live with love in my heart for everyone around me. (This is definitely the most difficult.)

How do you choose happiness? I would love to have more happy tools in my arsenal.

Oh and I love this song from the broadway show No, No, Nanette.

But it sure was a bummer when I figured out that the song was full of one really big lie.
We can absolutely be happy even when other people aren’t.
In fact maybe that’s the most important time to choose it for ourselves, when others around us are always miserable because misery loves company and who wants to be the miserable company.

Can You Hear the Bells?

LG and I received a great Christmas present from his parents.
We were able to attend a Christmas concert last night
by one of our favorite gospel/bluegrass groups The Lower Lights.
I was touched by their retelling and performance of I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote the lyrics after suffering two terrible Christmas seasons. First his wife was engulfed in flames and died from her burns, leaving Henry permanently injured as well. Second, Henry’s son, without Henry’s blessing, went to fight in the Civil War where he also received significant injuries to never be the same.

As Henry strolled down the street in despair the words of this poem came to him after hearing the church bells ringing. “If you haven’t had to endure a holiday season full of despair, then it’s only a matter of time,” the performer said last night. Then he added some sentiment that communicated the great privilege it can be to experience a Christmas where we are broken, humble, hurt, and down-trodden because it’s in those times that we can really see God’s hand in our life. Thus the last verse:

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men

As I listened again to this inspired Christmas hymn tears ran down my cheeks. I felt the power of one person’s faith. I got thinking of my brother’s family. My nephew passed away last May and my brother was just talking about how hard it is to celebrate the holidays without Braxton. I then thought of my friend Rosie who will be stuck in a hospital tending after Hyrum, her critically-ill special needs son, for Christmas as she was for Thanksgiving. I thought of Aimee who has had terrible health problems and is waiting for her entrance into the Mayo Clinic. I thought of several of my friends who struggle with a lifetime of hurt from the abuse they received as children. I thought of so many children out there dealing with the antics of their bitter divorced parents. Then I was flooded with the memories of many heartbroken wives who have lost their marriages because of their husband’s addiction. The friends who are valiantly trying to provide for their children in the midst of job loss and an unstable economy also came to mind.

There is so much suffering. I thought, “How does God handle it all?”
The answer came, “I don’t handle it, you do.”

Wait, what? I can’t handle it! Then the answer came further,
“No, one person cannot handle it, but everyone can do something.”
And all those somethings mean everything.

I’ve heard the bells. I’ve heard them so many times. I can’t even begin to count. I’ve heard them for me. I’ve heard them for friends. I’ve heard them for family. I’ve heard them by being served and I’ve heard them by being the servant. I’ve heard them ringing for strangers. I’ve heard them in the drop of a few coins in the Salvation Army buckets. I’ve heard them in so so many surprise packages on my very own porch. I’ve heard them in a Santa Claus across the country buying a trampoline for kids he has never met. They are ringing strong all over the world. Take a minute to really look for them….listen carefully. I promise they are there.

At this time of year you can even hear them in advertising.

The bells are so beautiful.
My wish for each of you this year is the gift to hear.

This one is dedicated to my hubby who loves his Sarah McLachlan.

Home is a Feeling.

Last week I just got done with the final unpacking. While making dinner Alison Krauss was playing over the portable CD player when LG wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and kissed my neck. The air smelled like apples from my Scentsy lamp but then LG’s familiar man-smell permeated my nasal passages. I took a long deep breathe. Two of our girls were happily playing Rummikub at the nearby dining table and the other two were sitting on the couch watching T.V.

I stirred whatever it was that I cooking on the stove and then turned to LG and gave him a hug and kissed him. The kiss became a longer kiss and then a really long kiss. The girls all started to murmur in objection to our public display of affection. “NO PDA allowed.” We laughed and whispered to each other that we would finish this later in private. I went back to cooking. LG stood close by trying to be helpful but mostly just supporting the cook with his presence.

I observed, “It feels like home.” LG questioned, “Which home? The old one down the street or the one we left in Tennessee?” I thought for a minute and said, “Both.” I pondered on how the feeling was the same even though the surroundings were so different and further communicated, “You know LG, I think home is a feeling, not a place.” He agreed.

No wonder why this is one of our favorite songs.

“There is a certain kind of yearning for home we should never want to lose. Home should be an anchor, a port in a storm, a refuge, a happy place in which to dwell, a place where we are loved and where we can love. Home should be where life’s greatest lessons are taught and learned. Home and family can be the center of one’s earthly faith, where love and mutual responsibility are appropriately blended. Thinking of home with its pleasant and happy memories can make us stronger during our present and future days here upon the earth….

When we have a yearning and don’t know what it is for, perhaps it’s our soul longing for its heartland, longing to be no longer alienated from the Lord and the pursuit of something much higher, better, and more fulfilling than anything this earth has to offer.

After Joseph, youngest son of Jacob, had been reunited with his brothers, he asked them to return home to Canaan to bring his father, Jacob, to him in Egypt. As the brothers were preparing to depart, Joseph said to them simply, “See that ye fall not out by the way.” (Gen. 45:24.)

Might our Heavenly Father have given us much the same counsel as we departed his presence to begin our earthly sojourn?

May our yearning for home be the motivation we need to so live that we can return to our heavenly home with God our Father on a forever basis.”

~Marvin J. Ashton, Oct 1992

Check out this inspiring story of some Mormon missionaries in the Philippines who thought they would never again go home, but were miraculously saved.

Love grows best

After lamenting on my last post about my anxiety over moving into a home so small,
on the corresponding FB post a really good friend linked a song that came to her mind.
How I love lyrical therapy! Leave it to Anna to do it just right.
She may be one of the most musically talented friends that I have
and interestingly I have a lot of musical friends.

Yesterday we finished removing all of our possessions from our old place. After working my tail off for a week straight and scrubbing down every surface of 2,400 sq. feet I was relieved to have it over. However as I drove away from our home of two and a half years for the last time I was filled with profound longing to stay.

This morning I had an hour to kill all by myself and I couldn’t make myself want to be in this dreary basement so I took the dog on a walk. It cheered me up to be in the fall crisp air and to soak in the sunshine.

When I finally got home I listened to the Little House song and cried like a baby. I may hate where I live, but it will be a good home if it makes the love in our family grow best. I am looking forward to finally having a night to just sit home and watch a movie as a family. I bet that someday I won’t want to leave here either. (or not)

Relationships

I got up at 7 am and tried all day to blog and between three non-working keys on the laptop (that have fixed themselves miraculously) and the million other interruptions/to-do items, I never even typed in the blog url to get started until ten o’clock tonight. How I’ve needed to write. It’s silly, this love affair I have with writing. It’s as if the blank page is my sanctuary. I fill it up and become the sanctuary for myself.

Firefly Lane is my latest read. My 4-star review can be found over on GoodReads. The book is about two best friends over a thirty year period of time. It was heart wrenching and touching in every single decade. It made me wish for a friendship like that of fictional Kate and Tully. I have great friends but none who know me as well as these two knew one another and none who have been around and close for 30 years. Well, maybe my sisters count. I’ve known them a long time and they are pretty intimate with my insanity.

2012-11-27 11.36.24

As I set down this book upon completion I was overcome with the idea that relationships are all that matter. The only thing I am taking with me when I die is my relationship with God, my relationship with myself, my relationship with my family, and my relationship with my fellow human beings. That’s it.

I can hope that I can take my relationship with paper and a pen but it ain’t gonna happen. Anything I write is stuck in mortality. Hmm. Maybe that’s not actually true. Maybe this explains my love with language. Like Kristin Hannah, I can write something that could inspire someone to have better relationships. If I do, they will take that inspiration with them….take my words with them. Even though that is a total tangent, it’s cool.

It lifted my spirits today to know that material stuff is petty. It’s not necessary for a happy fulfilled life. Sometimes its a hindrance.

So, life has been pretty crappy around here lately. Our landlord decided to sell the house we have been renting for the past two and a half years. We have a home here and love our neighborhood, but now we have been forced to move on. It’s been hard and emotional.

Not only is it hard to leave our beloved home, it’s also hard because LG and I made the decision to be financially responsible and make a significant downgrade. The downgrade is depressing yet necessary so that we can save money to not just get into our own home again but to be financially secure once we get there. We could have borrowed money to buy the house we are in and saved ourselves the hassle of moving, but if and when the furnace went out, we’d be in trouble. We have learned the hard way that we really don’t want to borrow money and we also don’t want to put ourselves in a position to need to be rescued.

So in the next few weeks we will be leaving our four bedroom 2,600 square foot home with a beautiful yard and a heaven-like neighborhood to reside in a 1,400 square foot 3 bedroom basement apartment with ONE bathroom!! It just sucks. There is no other way around it. There is nothing worse than knowing I am a parent who is failing my kids. They aren’t getting the stability we want them to have. They don’t get a lot of what we want them to have. What feels really crappy is knowing if we hadn’t taken our vacation last year to Disneyland, we may have had a different outcome now. If I would have known at the time that I was choosing future stability over one nice vacation for my kids before they fly from the nest, I don’t know what I would have done.

I do know one thing: I’m not taking my place of residence with me when I go, but we will all hopefully take with us the memories that were made. We will even take with us the memories we are going to make while fighting over the one toilet for the next few years. Somehow that makes this broken mom feel o.k. with it all. It also makes me feel better to know that the relationships I’ve forged in our current home are not just gone because I am moving, they will continue with me forever.

A song comes to mind.

CYB – I Never Leave His Hands

My life is so beautiful. I don’t say that to brag or feel better than you but I say it because it is true. God has repeatedly opened my eyes to the beauty of Him, the beauty around me, and the beauty inside me. I bet your life is pretty amazing too whether you realize it or not. It is hard for me to believe that my gratitude can grow more and more every day because sometimes my days are hard, but by practicing gratitude even my bad days seems good. Sometimes I am so filled with love and gratitude that I feel like I could burst, so I usually just bawl for a second or two to get it out.

A friend brought over roast beef, protein shakes, and ovulation kits (which I may be giving back after further consideration.) She couldn’t use any of the three because she is pregnant. Being thought of was wonderful but sharing her joy in her pregnancy was the better part. The time she took to visit meant more than the consumables.

Logan and Jill went to Abigail’s soccer game and my heart was full to know that my daughter has support from an extended family too. They also took the girls for an adventure and they all seemed to have a blast. Visiting with Logan and Jill and our girls while we debated between Harry Potter vs. Percy Jackson was an extremely enjoyable evening that will remain with me forever.

LG and I got to go see Diana Krall as our belated 16th anniversary gift to ourselves. We bought the tickets early in the summer when our savings account was a lot more full. It was such a beautiful concert and an enjoyable evening together. LG had a $10 Red Robin gift-card leftover from his birthday too and so even though our budget barely had the stretching room for the drive to SLC, we were still able to go and enjoy a meal out as part of the evening.

Even though it meant we had to eat more frugally I was finally able to pay down some doctor bills. This year we were put on a high deductible plan that means we pretty much have to pay for all of our medical expenses out of our pocket. It’s been a rough transition but we’ve survived. We may even end the year with every doctor bill paid in full.

The van’s engine light went off again and then came back on. It makes me smile when it is on or when it is off.

I have an opportunity to volunteer with The United Way in their Welcome Baby program. I will get to go and visit new moms and take them a little care package (donated by the community) and discuss important parts of mom and baby health. I’m really excited about this service opportunity. Mothering is a passion.

The neighbor Teresa brought over homemade salsa. It was way better then what I make.

We got to go to General Conference last week. I really love the perks of living in Utah. We also get to go to the temple on a monthly basis. Being so close to church headquarters is a huge blessing in our lives right now.

Abigail is getting straight A’s because she wants to and that makes me feel like we’ve done something really right. She wants to get a college scholarship and she is planning ahead.

LG thought he had a job offer in China but it ended up being a scam. It didn’t work out but it was sure fun for our family to have the excitement for a day. It was kind of a bummer coming down off of it, but I learned a really cool lesson: it’s about family. Our kids were ready to leave all their comforts and take an adventure. They didn’t even bat an eyelash. Abigail’s exact words, “It’s freaking China, mom. Who cares about my clothes, prom, or American boys. Let’s go!”

Jennifer brought over banana bread on a rough day. Sometimes the littlest gestures are a really big deal.

After caring for a friend with a bad back, she gave us a bucket of apples to say thanks. It was unexpected and unnecessary but pretty wonderful…especially since she packaged it up in the cutest ever red bucket.

Everyone is healthy. I take that for granted, but having so many friends pass through trials of sickness and hospitalizations this past month has made me so grateful for our health. I just got done reading Heaven is for Real and reading about Colton’s hospitalization brought back the three awful days of 2005 when 2-year-old Bella was in the hospital with a serious respiratory virus. I was so scared. Not only am I grateful for our health, I am grateful for all the healing we’ve had collectively over the years.

Reading the book also solidified a beautiful message from God about my last miscarriage. The pastor who wrote the book and his wife came to the same conclusion that I have about a miscarried baby. I had a pretty spiritual experience in the temple after mine occurred. A child came to me and told me not to forget him. I originally thought it meant I was supposed to have another baby or adopt some kids, but I am becoming at peace with the fact that maybe I will raise up that child in the millennium. That will be a blessing of no description so why mourn now?

LG gave me a priesthood blessing that said the Lord was pleased with the way I am raising my kids. Is there really anything better that I could ever hear?

A friend going through rough times chose to be grateful and told me I was her inspiration. It made me so happy not to be the inspiration but to see her able to have happiness during tough times.

After running 6 miles in 54 minutes the other days I bawled like a baby for my quarter mile warm down. God does strengthen, enable, and bless us when we seek him. I was so very grateful to Him for my physical strength.

Amy and Tyler had a baby. No really. Amy and Tyler had a baby!! After 15+ years of infertility and unsuccessful In-vitro and 2 cool adopted kids, my brother and sister in law were blessed with a little miracle biological baby girl.

LG and I have never been better, but helping other ladies at church going through hard times has helped me remember how far we’ve come and how grateful I should be to have a husband who didn’t give up, who works hard for our family, and who loves me wholeheartedly.

I had a profound feeling of love contentment and joy walking with Caroline along the sidewalks of SLC while people lined the streets singing hymns. I felt the spirit of the Lord testifying to me that He is in charge of the whole earth.

I know he watches over me. Which brings me to a song….

remembering in the winter

Here in Orem, Utah the first snow of the year is on the ground. It’s always so beautiful and daunting at the same time. The snow always seems to come too early. It sneaks its way onto the ground piercing the darkest hours of the night when all the sleeping are oblivious. They went to bed smiling while thinking about how much they were enjoying the fall only to wake up to see fall squeezed out all together. Snow is tricky and rude like that. Its like the supermodel of weather. Nobody really wants it around with its cruel personality but they can’t help but admire it for the beauty it brings to the table.

In response to yesterday’s post I received a text last night. A stranger was thanking me for encouraging words during a hard week. It made me feel so happy. I felt like I made a difference for one person. I ask for no more than that. All I want to do is help people be happy. All I want to do is be happy. Such a small moment made me so proud and grateful. I felt as if I was fulfilling one mission in my life: spread hope.

I have been pondering about happiness this morning. I’ve been thinking about the winters of my life. When I was in the middle of the winters I wasn’t grateful for them. In fact I felt robbed. I felt abandoned by God. I felt hurt by perpetrators around me. I felt disappointed in myself. I was freezing and buried deep in snow. I felt like I would never live to spring.

The day I was diagnosed as Bi-Polar Type II sticks out as one of the harshest winters. I never wanted to be crazy. I felt totally cheated. What had I ever done to deserve such a cruel label? God must not have loved me. The time we lost our home in TN? That wasn’t fun. Receiving the news that my hubby didn’t pass the bar the first time was a big blow that seems totally minuscule now. One time in eighth grade a really cruel kid humiliated me for five minutes straight while my classmates all looked on and did nothing. He berated me calling me fat and ugly and worthless and everyone just stared as I tried to hold back tears. There was a day that I walked in on my ASB advisor to hear him bad-mouthing my family. The day I gave birth to Caroline I was fondled by the doctor who would later deliver my baby. While in labor, I cried and cried to my husband and mother-in-law who had been forced to leave the room right before the instance occurred. I was violated but I didn’t know what to do about it. Neither did they – that’s why we let the perpetrator deliver my daughter.

I’ve had extreme poverty as a child and as a mother of children. I’ve had difficult marital issues. I’ve lived three years of my life when both my hubby and I depended on one car to get us from work to school…that car was in the shop at least on a monthly basis. I’ve had health issues…pancreatitis, pluracy, gall bladder issues, club feet, and a chopped off toe. I served a mission for my church for eighteen months with nothing but a suitcase full of clothes that I bought myself at the thrift store. I’ve struggled with resentment that no one helped me understand earlier in life that graduating from college was something I could do. I’ve had excessive pride, envy, and impatience.

Losing multiple family members and friends too early is when I might have been the coldest. I’ve suffered with four miscarriages and infertility. I’ve also suffered from the decision my hubby and I made to start our family earlier than I would have preferred because that is what we knew God wanted for us. It was very hard to raise three children for the ten years while my hubby was in college. Finding out that a most trusted loved one had been untrustworthy – that winter lasted about ten years. There have been plenty of struggles with friends. I’ve had dark depression and have also been so manic that I did and said really stupid things. I’ve been engulfed in the chains of codependency wondering why people couldn’t even try to make me happy. I have hurt people. I have hurt myself. I have wallowed in pity. I have felt totally hopeless and in complete despair.

I’ve had a lot of winter in my life, but I’ve had more summer, spring, and fall. I appreciate the warmer seasons but I am most grateful for the winters…they’ve made me a permanently worn warm woolen coat. Without my winters, I wouldn’t be so resilient. I also couldn’t help other people experiencing their own below freezing temperatures. I’ve found nothing more sweet and full of sunshine in this life then first helping myself to overcome and second being a beacon for others.

While pondering about winters this morning I came across this video below.
It’s a beautiful reminder that if we just courageously stand up to our winters,
we each have a moment of sure summer joy to claim for our own.

I’ve always loved this song by Bette Midler.

“The Rose”

Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
An endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
And you its only seed.

It’s the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance.
It’s the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance.
It’s the one who won’t be taken,
Who cannot seem to give,
And the soul afraid of dyin’
That never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long,
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong,
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun’s love
In the spring becomes the rose.

Sunday Pin: The Lower Lights

Today at church we had a mission farewell. Another young man in our congregation will be leaving his family for two whole years to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ this time to Guatemala. The missionary program of my church is pretty miraculous. This young man and eight other members of his family sang a beautiful rendition of Brightly Beams Our Father’s Mercy. I love the hymn and they had gorgeous four part harmony.

It sounded about like this but with a lot fewer voices.

Don’t you just love those lyrics?

Brightly beams our Father’s mercy
From his lighthouse evermore,
But to us he gives the keeping
Of the lights along the shore.

[Chorus]
Let the lower lights be burning;
Send a gleam across the wave.
Some poor fainting, struggling seaman
You may rescue, you may save.

Dark the night of sin has settled;
Loud the angry billows roar.
Eager eyes are watching, longing,
For the lights along the shore.

Trim your feeble lamp, my brother;
Some poor sailor, tempest-tossed,
Trying now to make the harbor,
In the darkness may be lost.

I would have never thought of this song as a good song to send a missionary out to the field with, but WOW, how powerful it was to think of this hymn in the perspective of a missionary being a lower light.

Speaking of missionaries, check out these musical geniuses. LG and I both LOVE this rendition. I do enjoy how Mormons love music.

I want to be a lower light. I want to rescue and save all the struggling seaman wherever they may be. I will trim my feeble lamp and I will go forward knowing God can work miracles with my teeny little lamp.

And I can’t think of the lower lights without thinking of one of my favorite music groups The Lower Lights. They combine my love for southern gospel and Mormon missionaries. Enjoy. This song better be sung at my funeral someday.