"And the moon is a sliver of silver,
like a shaving that fell on the floor of a carpenter's shop.
And every house must have it's builder;
and I awoke in the House of God.
Where the windows are mornings and evenings
stretched from the sun,
across the sky - north to south.
On my way to early meeting,
I heard the rocks crying out, I heard the rocks crying out...
'Be praised for all Your tenderness
by these works of Your Hands:
suns that rise and rains that fall to bless,
and bring to life Your land.
Look down upon this winter wheat,
and be glad that You have made
blue, border sky and the color green
that fill these fields with praise.'
And the wrens have returned to their nesting
in the hollow of that oak, where his heart once had been.
And he lifts up his arms in a blessing
for being born again.
And the streams are all swollen with winter.
Winter unfolds, and it's free to run away now.
And i'm amazed when i remember who it was who built this House;
and with the rocks I cry out..."
'Be praised for all Your tenderness
by these works of Your Hands:
suns that rise and rains that fall to bless,
and bring to life Your land.
Look down upon this winter wheat,
and be glad that You have made
blue, border sky and the color green
that fill these fields with praise.'
like a shaving that fell on the floor of a carpenter's shop.
And every house must have it's builder;
and I awoke in the House of God.
Where the windows are mornings and evenings
stretched from the sun,
across the sky - north to south.
On my way to early meeting,
I heard the rocks crying out, I heard the rocks crying out...
'Be praised for all Your tenderness
by these works of Your Hands:
suns that rise and rains that fall to bless,
and bring to life Your land.
Look down upon this winter wheat,
and be glad that You have made
blue, border sky and the color green
that fill these fields with praise.'
And the wrens have returned to their nesting
in the hollow of that oak, where his heart once had been.
And he lifts up his arms in a blessing
for being born again.
And the streams are all swollen with winter.
Winter unfolds, and it's free to run away now.
And i'm amazed when i remember who it was who built this House;
and with the rocks I cry out..."
'Be praised for all Your tenderness
by these works of Your Hands:
suns that rise and rains that fall to bless,
and bring to life Your land.
Look down upon this winter wheat,
and be glad that You have made
blue, border sky and the color green
that fill these fields with praise.'
This song has been echoing in my head for days now. A dear friend has allowed our house to borrow Rich Mullins' A Legacy, A Liturgy, and a Ragamuffin Band, and I've been practically obsessed with this piece since.
Ten years ago, I first heard this song (entitled "The Color Green") when it was being played on Z Music Television, and even then found myself touched by the music, even though I couldn't quite make out (or just ignored) the words.
As Spring is upon us, and it's promising signs evident all across our budding campus, may we exhort each other to recall the Lord's faithfulness - evident so powerfully in His Creation - this "House" he has made for us. Whether you find yourself in a personal season of contentment, discouragement, anticipation, or frusteration; keep in mind that it is just that: a season. Persevere and press on, meditating NOT upon our circumstances...
Ten years ago, I first heard this song (entitled "The Color Green") when it was being played on Z Music Television, and even then found myself touched by the music, even though I couldn't quite make out (or just ignored) the words.
As Spring is upon us, and it's promising signs evident all across our budding campus, may we exhort each other to recall the Lord's faithfulness - evident so powerfully in His Creation - this "House" he has made for us. Whether you find yourself in a personal season of contentment, discouragement, anticipation, or frusteration; keep in mind that it is just that: a season. Persevere and press on, meditating NOT upon our circumstances...
...but our Savior.
7 comments:
Let me heartily recommend the bio of Mullins - An Arrow Pointed Toward Heaven - written by his close friend. It is soul-moving.
A great post, Jen.
So Jen...did you meet a guy or something?......cause you seem to have disappeared OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH! !!!!!!!!
!! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !!! ! !!! !! ! !!
LOL!
Bradley...you slay me.
No...no guy, yet. But I'll keep you posted.
Just working WAY too much, yet thankful for employment.
What have you been up to?
I could make a REALLY unprofitable remark right now, but I will refrain.
Hope work is going well for you, Jen - I'm eeking out the last 45 minutes... it feels like torture!!! But like you said, so thankful for extra work to pay for rent next month (whee!!). Love you, sistah!
PS: Bradley - Uneedaquitchonobeeinroun'brothah!
Your self-control is stirring (and a relief), Miss (soon to be Shaw) Millard. :)
I love you too, mooshy-moo...
Jenn,
I was looking through one of my college yearbooks and i realized that you were from the same place as someone i vaguely knew. Deric Spurgeon. He went to Terre Haute Christian. Ha ha ... I don't know how he ballanced his College career. He was always in all the big drama productions, working the cameras for church services and chapel, student body stuff, etc.
Eh, it was just one of those random questions.
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