Tag: praise

Angels Help Us to Adore Him

On By Charis PsalloIn Black and white, Photography5 Comments

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I’ve never seen an actual angel, not that I know of, at least not while I was awake. I know people who have – and some of them are the scientifically-oriented type who are not given to flights of fancy. I gather it’s a rather startling experience.

I’ve sung about them quite often.

Angels, help us to adore Him,

Ye behold Him face to face;

Sun and moon, bow down before Him;

Dwellers all in time and space,

Praise Him, praise Him, alleluia!

Praise with us the God of grace.

(from Praise My Soul the King of Heaven by Henry Lyte)

I’ve read about them too, but like most folk the pictures of angels I’ve been acquainted with came from Christmas decorations, Baroque paintings, corner gift shops and carved stones in cemeteries.

I’ve seen them in dreams though. One leaned down low and told me a secret that explained a lot of previously unexplained events in my childhood. In another dream, after I had been praying about what action to take in a puzzling situation, I saw an angel pointing to the trail I often walk on when I go to pray. He was leaning on the please-clean-up-after-your-dog sign and smiling.

In my dreams I have seen angels in uniform in my dreams. One was in a Canadian Army dress uniform, some wore battle fatigues while driving supply vehicles, friendly waving angels in air force uniforms deplaned from a passenger jet landing near my house, and one was dressed as a cable guy. He was in my house repairing something in the wall where my husband and the boys had once threaded a wire that connected their computers so they could play games together. Shortly after that I noticed a definite improvement in communication in their relationship.

When I hear people’s stories of real live encounters I become envious. I have sincerely prayed for my eyes to be opened like Elisha’s servant so I could see too, but every time I have done that someone close to me sees something, and I don’t.

When our son-in-law lay dying several people told me about seeing angels around him. One praying friend in another part of the world sent a message telling me about the angel she saw in a vision. Within a few hours I heard two other people who were there at the hospital describe seeing exactly the same thing. Some people saw two very tall angels on guard duty on either side of the door to his room. Some saw angels crowded in the room and hallways. Some saw angels holding his head.

He didn’t die. He was miraculously healed.

Just before that particularly trying season, when the doctor thought I had cancer, then my mother-in-law was in ICU for heart problems, followed by our son-in-law’s battle with sepsis from flesh-eating disease, and when  our son’s family’s home and community was nearly destroyed in a flood, had I prayed to see angels. I didn’t. My husband did though. He’s really a down-to-earth guy, a scientist, but he told me excitedly the next morning that he dreamed (or he thought it was a dream) that he answered a knock on the door and a bunch of very big angels walked past him into the living room. He said they all dressed and acted like rugby players. Big tough rowdy guys.

“What did they look like?” I demanded. “Did you see their faces? Did they have names?”

“There was a whole team of giant nine-foot tall rugby player angels crammed into our little eight foot high living room! It was really hard to see anything. All I know is that they were slapping each other on the back enthusiastically like they were really looking forward to playing a big important game. They were like ‘Bring it on! We are so ready for this!’”

Maybe I haven’t seen angels because I might be so distracted I would forget to do my part in the battle, which seems a lot like pulling out little Lucy’s tiny dagger in the presence of a whole huge army of threats and ugly hatred like she did in a battle in Narnia.

The Bible talks freely about angels, and how they are servants of God. They are not made of stone or paper or cookie dough and they aren’t chubby babies with aerodynamically impossible tiny wings. We don’t worship them, but it’s good to know the angels who worship the Creator of the Universe and see him face to face help us fight the good fight. I trust the Lord sends them where he needs them – and where I need them when I pull out my little dagger.

There are more accounts of angel sightings in the book, While He Lay Dying.

Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher

On By Charis PsalloIn Mountains, Photography3 Comments

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But you, God, shield me on all sides;
You ground my feet, you lift my head high;
With all my might I shout up to God,
His answers thunder from the holy mountain.
(Psalm 3:2,4 The Message)

In the Quiet Misty Morning

On By Charis PsalloIn Photography, Trees and forests, Water11 Comments

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As I walked beside the still water in the quiet misty morning a thought came to mind. If I am capable of worrying I am capable of meditating on the goodness of God. It’s just a matter of changing the subject. Remembering what I have seen of God’s promises is much more satisfying than speculating about those things that are still mystifying.

 

Finally, brothers and sisters, fill your minds with beauty and truth. Meditate on whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is good, whatever is virtuous and praiseworthy. (Philippians 4:8)

Many Crowns

On By Charis PsalloIn Art, Music, Trees and forestsLeave a comment

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Crown Him with many crowns
The Lamb upon His throne
Hark how the heavenly anthem drowns
All music but its own
Awake my soul and sing
Of Him who died for Thee
And hail Him as thy matchless King
Through all eternity

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 Crown Him the Lord of life
Who triumphed over the grave
And rose victorious to the strife
For those He came to save
His glories now we sing
Who died and rose on high
Who died eternal life to bring
And lives that death may die

 

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 Crown Him the Lord of love
Behold His hands and side
Those wounds yet visible above
In beauty glorified
No angel in the sky
Can fully bear that sight
But downward bend His wond’ring eye
At mysteries so bright

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 Crown Him the Lord of heaven
Enthroned in worlds above
Crown Him the King to Whom is given
The wondrous name of Love
Crown Him with many crowns
As thrones before Him fall
Crown Him ye kings with many crowns
For He is King of all

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“Crown Him with Many Crowns” by Matthew Bridges

Listen Carefully

On By Charis PsalloIn Photography, Trees and forests, Water2 Comments

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Monday afternoon, Thanksgiving Day, 2014. A stream in the Crowsnest Pass, Alberta.

Reading about nature is fine, but if a person walks in the woods and listens carefully, he can learn more than what is in books, for they speak with the voice of God.
– George Washington Carver

Thanksgiving Joy

On By Charis PsalloIn Animals, Trees and forests, Water2 Comments

 

 

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There is always, always something to be thankful for.

This weekend is the time Canadians make an effort to be thankful together.

When we go beyond mutual disgruntlements, push past disappointment, drown out the voice of despair with the song of hope – then we find the gold.

It’s right there. You’re surrounded by it. You’re soaking in it. Can you see it?

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Thank You.

Thank You, Lord.

Thank You.

Every Cloud’s a Flag

On By Charis PsalloIn Photography, SkyLeave a comment

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I’m thanking you, God, out in the streets,
singing your praises in town and country.
The deeper your love,
the higher it goes;
every cloud’s a flag to your faithfulness.
Soar high in the skies, O God!
Cover the whole earth with your glory!
(Psalm 108 The Message)

When You Haven’t Got the Whole Picture

On By Charis PsalloIn Art2 Comments

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The story is told in the book of John about the time Jesus grossed his disciples out. He said something about not being a part of what he was doing unless they ate his body and drank his blood. For people who wouldn’t touch shrimp barbeque or BLT sandwiches, this was pretty offensive. Some of them left. They didn’t get it.

The ones who stayed didn’t get it either, but Peter, who was one of them, answered Jesus (who asked if they wanted to leave too), “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life,  and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.”

Later, they understood the significance of “eating his body and drinking his blood” when they remembered the last supper where he offered them broken bread and wine and said, “This is my body. This is my blood.”

Jesus spoke the language of metaphor.  That’s why his first miracle involved replacing the ceremonial cleansing water at the wedding in Cana with gallons and gallons of wine. Wine symbolized his blood which was shed to save people from their sins. But all these things became clear only in retrospect.

Children tend to be concrete literal thinkers and the disciples often thought like children. People often misunderstood the language of the Kingdom because, like children, their thinking was literal. God often speaks in symbolic pictures.

Jesus said, “It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.”

His words came to life for the disciples later when Holy Spirit brought them to memory and interpreted them.

Sometimes the Lord will give us a puzzle piece and it does not make sense to us. Sometimes there is the temptation to try to make sense of it before we have the other pieces, but there is meant to be a certain amount of tension as we follow Jesus in faith, not understanding what on earth he is talking about.

Like Mary we treasure and ponder, but we don’t always know where this is all going. I think of Joseph who died before seeing the man he raised as his own son crucified and risen from the dead. I’m sure he knows now, but it must have been difficult at times.

In the chapter that comes in the middle of the discussion of the charisma, or gifts of the Spirit, Paul talks about living with only part of the picture.

 For our knowledge is fragmentary (incomplete and imperfect), and our prophecy (our teaching) is fragmentary (incomplete and imperfect).

But when the complete and perfect (total) comes, the incomplete and imperfect will vanish away (become antiquated, void, and superseded).

 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; now that I have become a man, I am done with childish ways and have put them aside.

 For now we are looking in a mirror that gives only a dim (blurred) reflection [of reality as in a riddle or enigma], but then [when perfection comes] we shall see in reality and face to face! Now I know in part (imperfectly), but then I shall know and understand  fully and clearly, even in the same manner as I have been fully and clearly known and understood [by God].

 And so faith, hope, love abide [faith—conviction and belief respecting man’s relation to God and divine things; hope—joyful and confident expectation of eternal salvation; love—true affection for God and man, growing out of God’s love for and in us], these three; but the greatest of these is love. (1 Cor. 13: 10 – 13 Amplified)

So what do we do in the meantime, when we see only in part?

We have faith that He will not lead us astray.

We cooperate with Holy Spirit living in us in the development of our character that leads to hope that does not disappoint.

And when we don’t know what we are doing, we err on the side of love.

We love because He loved us first and He gives us the ability to extend to others the grace He extended to us.

Sometimes following Jesus means saying, in all humility, “I don’t know. But I have come to believe, and to know, that Jesus Christ is the Holy One of God and I choose to follow Him.”

Save

Save

Save

Show Me How You Feel

On By Charis PsalloIn Art, Music, Photography6 Comments

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Mine was not a huggy family. We didn’t slap people on the back, or stand up and shout at hockey games, or let anyone see us cry. And we were definitely not gushy. Words of affection were neatly tucked inside greeting cards and shared only at the appropriate times. Dancing was forbidden; even toe-tapping was unseemly in church, and laughter was contained in decently-and-in-order decorum.

And yet there was love, and affection, and enthusiasm, and sorrow, and always a deep emotional connection with music. We just didn’t express it physically. Blame on culture, or a fear of vulnerability, I don’t know, but being demonstrative does not come naturally to me. I’ve had to work at it. Music has been my main vehicle for expressing that which I cannot show, but when I lost my voice due to health problems, so many feelings became stuck inside me. That’s when I turned to art and writing.

Someone asked me recently how I plan to increase my worship of God. We agreed that worship can easily become a duty or routine without involving our whole hearts and requires a conscious effort to enlarge our expression. Can I admit a bit of panic? I assumed this meant they expected me to step out of my English stiff-upper-lip, German resolve, and Scottish stoicism and make myself do something horribly uncomfortable, like perform cartwheels in the aisle or give eloquent impromptu prayer speeches in Shakespearean English over a microphone.

I understand the importance of praise and the way it causes us to focus on God and his character. It’s not that He is a narcissistic megalomaniac needing constant approval and emotional boosting before He can get around to answering our requests. He is the source of love and only by spending time looking to the author and finisher of our faith can we ever hope to live in the power of that love. Worship makes us conscious of His Presence. I get it. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by His love and goodness and I run out of words. How many times can you say Praise the Lord or Hallelujah or Glory before the words lose meaning like gum that has been chewed for hours loses its flavour? Giving physical expression by raising hands, or bowing or kneeling -or doing cartwheels- makes perfect sense, for those who have not divorced this part of themselves. Until those actions become flavourless routine, as well.

It was while on this journey that I felt Him say something else about worship. Jesus repeated the scripture in Isaiah that talks about praise being on people’s lips while their hearts were far away. He was not impressed. He also said, “If you love me you will keep my commandments.” At this point we often make assumptions about what’s on the list of commandments so we can check them off. But what are His commandments?

Jesus answered, “The most important is, ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. 

And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’

The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’

There is no other commandment greater than these.”

 

I like the music of the Piano Guys. I came across this video the other day which combines Bach’s Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, with Extreme’s More Than Words. The song grabbed my attention and answered my question about how to increase my worship. I know the Extreme song referred to a physical expression of love between two people but there was a deeper meaning for me. The old marriage vows used to include the promise, “With my body I thee worship.” That could mean sexual  affection or it could mean getting off the couch to make a cup of tea -or move the couch for the loved one. At the heart of this vow is the importance act of paying attention and listening to the desires of the other. This is also called “worship.”

For me that has meant a season of coming aside and learning to listen to His voice, even though that action has not made sense to others. It has meant dropping involvement a lot of activities which I always assumed to be good, to obey and follow Him to a place of solitude and quiet where I can learn to separate His voice from all the others. For other people, following Him might mean pouring themselves into a construction project. or barrel racing – or doing cartwheels in the aisle. Maybe that will be part of my expression someday too, but for now I hear Him say:

More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
‘Cause I’d already know 

First Light

On By Charis PsalloIn Photography, Water4 Comments
First Light
First Light

The sun comes up, it’s a new day dawning
It’s time to sing Your song again
Whatever may pass, and whatever lies before me
Let me be singing when the evening comes

Bless the Lord, O my soul
O my soul
Worship His holy name
Sing like never before
O my soul
I’ll worship Your holy name

(from 10,000 Reasons by Matt Redman)

I’m not a morning person. In times when I don’t need to conform to other people’s hours I tend to go to bed later every evening, which means I tend to be less than sparkly at dawn. But I miss a lot of good light. My friend reminded me of this yesterday when she urged me to get up and get going with her on a photo shoot. I grabbed my coffee and stumbled out the door when her vehicle pulled up and we headed out. What a beautiful morning! Sometimes we need a little encouragement, a little vicarious optimism, a little holy provocation. Thank you, Denise. You are a blessing to me.