rejoice with me...
I was asked for copies of what I shared at dad's memorial mass yesterday morning and to the best of my recollection, this is it. Some I had briefly prepared, some was just what came out and I'm still in a bit of a fog as we process this. The rest of this day and the ones to immediately follow will be filled with activity and I need to pocket "this" and turn my energies into the life that begs for living in front of me, and somehow push the pause button on the grief that threatens to brink the rims of my heart, but God is good. And He is teaching me faster than I can type. Praise His name, He is so very good. Thanks for all the love and prayers on our behalf. They are being heard...
We'll only know when I get on the other side of this, if "this" was a good idea or not, but I'd like to share something God has shown me in the last few hours, something I would have never imagined sharing at a time like this, nothing like what I imagined I would say.
A friend of mine sent me this quote when she heard about dad.
“Let your hook be always cast; in the pool where you least expect it, there will be a fish."- Ovid
Well, I caught a fish in a pool where I least expected it. Many of you know my father was Catholic and my mother was not. Both my sister and I were christened here in this church but we were raised in the protestant faith. Little did I know I would one day spend close to 20 years teaching in Catholic schools and planning the music for hundreds of masses. I came to appreciate and honor the beauty of liturgy and the rich traditions that meant so much to my father and his family.
I have always loved to study the Bible, as long as I can remember I’ve enjoyed digging for understanding and insight in search of knowing God and knowing His Son more deeply. I admitted to John and Shawna last night that I sometimes wished I had had a father who might have shared that passion with me, who might have fed my appetite to learn and understand. Most of my young life this fire was fueled by our mother who kept her Nave’s concordance next to her Bible and made countless notes in the margins from lessons she’d learn. It wasn’t until the last year or so I began to get a closer glimpse of the faith of my father, a faith I had measured on Biblical facts and history alone. This “fish” I caught was in a completely different pool.
All these years I had wanted my dad to assume a stronger leadership role in my spiritual development and it has taken me all this time to realize that’s exactly what he had been doing all along.
Love God. Love people.
That’s just about as simple as it gets and yet it’s as profound as anything I’ve ever learned in any study I’ve ever done. This man I called dad had that nailed a long time ago. And after five hours of standing in line last night hearing the stories of how he had loved God and loved people, well let’s just say my “bobber” went down deep and hard. This fish that almost “got away” was the realization that my father was the spiritual leader of our home and he mentored me and matured my faith just by being who he was. You see, looking back now, as hard as it was to lose mom, I’m so grateful for these last few years I’ve had to get to know dad better, to see this side of him. He became such a good friend. God knew exactly what He was doing.
Love God. My mom was that rock who fueled that fire to know and love His word, that firm foundation we would need to build upon, and she instilled that in me, in Veronica, in Jan, in Shawna… what a legacy she left behind. And no one I know loved people like my dad did. He was one of the most servant-hearted people I've ever known, and as far as the fruit of the Spirit, he nailed every one of them. On a good day I have a few, but he lived them all.
Earlier this past Spring my dad called me one morning (thankful I quit my job…) and he skipped the hello altogether and began with “Rejoice with me!” I remember laughing and expecting him to proceed with a lovely passage from Psalms or something, but instead, he said, “I have opened a double-yolked egg and my cup overfloweth!” I even blogged about it at the time and gave him a copy of it. From then on, he would begin frequent conversations or phone calls with “Rejoice with me!” and share some simple praise he had on his heart, like "I was fishing and I know the Good Lord did this, or did this..." Another time he called and once again omitting the hello began with, “What a beautiful day the Lord hath made…and she said?” “Ummmm….Amen?” “No…..let…” and I joined him, “us rejoice and be glad in it…” In the readings we used this morning from Psalm 118 and Philippians 4, I picked them because I think dad would want us all to rejoice with him. I keep picturing that photo on the memory board last night, of him wrapping his arms around my mom, and her waist tiny once again, and not letting go. And I believe with all my heart that is what he would say to us today...
Rejoice with me.
Rejoice.
We’re going to play his favorite song, “Praise His Name”, it meant a lot to him since mom died.
Praise His Name
(by Bruce Haymes & Lee Hendrix, recorded by Sheri and Jeff Easter)
When you’re up against the wall (Psalm 118...)
And your mountain seems so tall,
And you realize that life’s not always fair.
You can run away and hide
Let the old man decide
Or you can change your circumstances
With a prayer
When everything falls apart
Praise His name
When you have a broken heart
Raise your hands and say
“Lord, You’re all I need
You’re everything to me”
And He’ll take the pain away
When it seems you’re all alone
Praise His name
When you feel you can’t go on
Just raise your hands and say
“Greater is He, that is within me”
You can praise the hurt away
If you’ll just praise His name
You can over come by the blood of the lamb
And by the word of your testimony
You’ll see the darkness go
As your faith begins to grow
You’re not alone, so how can you be lonely?
When everything falls apart
Praise His name
When you have a broken heart
Raise your hands and say
“Lord, You’re all I need
You’re everything to me”
And He’ll take the pain away
When it seems you’re all alone
Praise His name
When you feel you can’t go on
Just raise your hands and say
“Greater is He, that is within me”
You can praise the hurt away
“Greater is He, that is within me”
You can praise the hurt away
If you’ll just praise His name...
_____________
We'll only know when I get on the other side of this, if "this" was a good idea or not, but I'd like to share something God has shown me in the last few hours, something I would have never imagined sharing at a time like this, nothing like what I imagined I would say.
A friend of mine sent me this quote when she heard about dad.
“Let your hook be always cast; in the pool where you least expect it, there will be a fish."- Ovid
Well, I caught a fish in a pool where I least expected it. Many of you know my father was Catholic and my mother was not. Both my sister and I were christened here in this church but we were raised in the protestant faith. Little did I know I would one day spend close to 20 years teaching in Catholic schools and planning the music for hundreds of masses. I came to appreciate and honor the beauty of liturgy and the rich traditions that meant so much to my father and his family.
I have always loved to study the Bible, as long as I can remember I’ve enjoyed digging for understanding and insight in search of knowing God and knowing His Son more deeply. I admitted to John and Shawna last night that I sometimes wished I had had a father who might have shared that passion with me, who might have fed my appetite to learn and understand. Most of my young life this fire was fueled by our mother who kept her Nave’s concordance next to her Bible and made countless notes in the margins from lessons she’d learn. It wasn’t until the last year or so I began to get a closer glimpse of the faith of my father, a faith I had measured on Biblical facts and history alone. This “fish” I caught was in a completely different pool.
All these years I had wanted my dad to assume a stronger leadership role in my spiritual development and it has taken me all this time to realize that’s exactly what he had been doing all along.
Love God. Love people.
That’s just about as simple as it gets and yet it’s as profound as anything I’ve ever learned in any study I’ve ever done. This man I called dad had that nailed a long time ago. And after five hours of standing in line last night hearing the stories of how he had loved God and loved people, well let’s just say my “bobber” went down deep and hard. This fish that almost “got away” was the realization that my father was the spiritual leader of our home and he mentored me and matured my faith just by being who he was. You see, looking back now, as hard as it was to lose mom, I’m so grateful for these last few years I’ve had to get to know dad better, to see this side of him. He became such a good friend. God knew exactly what He was doing.
Love God. My mom was that rock who fueled that fire to know and love His word, that firm foundation we would need to build upon, and she instilled that in me, in Veronica, in Jan, in Shawna… what a legacy she left behind. And no one I know loved people like my dad did. He was one of the most servant-hearted people I've ever known, and as far as the fruit of the Spirit, he nailed every one of them. On a good day I have a few, but he lived them all.
Earlier this past Spring my dad called me one morning (thankful I quit my job…) and he skipped the hello altogether and began with “Rejoice with me!” I remember laughing and expecting him to proceed with a lovely passage from Psalms or something, but instead, he said, “I have opened a double-yolked egg and my cup overfloweth!” I even blogged about it at the time and gave him a copy of it. From then on, he would begin frequent conversations or phone calls with “Rejoice with me!” and share some simple praise he had on his heart, like "I was fishing and I know the Good Lord did this, or did this..." Another time he called and once again omitting the hello began with, “What a beautiful day the Lord hath made…and she said?” “Ummmm….Amen?” “No…..let…” and I joined him, “us rejoice and be glad in it…” In the readings we used this morning from Psalm 118 and Philippians 4, I picked them because I think dad would want us all to rejoice with him. I keep picturing that photo on the memory board last night, of him wrapping his arms around my mom, and her waist tiny once again, and not letting go. And I believe with all my heart that is what he would say to us today...
Rejoice with me.
Rejoice.
We’re going to play his favorite song, “Praise His Name”, it meant a lot to him since mom died.
Praise His Name
(by Bruce Haymes & Lee Hendrix, recorded by Sheri and Jeff Easter)
When you’re up against the wall (Psalm 118...)
And your mountain seems so tall,
And you realize that life’s not always fair.
You can run away and hide
Let the old man decide
Or you can change your circumstances
With a prayer
When everything falls apart
Praise His name
When you have a broken heart
Raise your hands and say
“Lord, You’re all I need
You’re everything to me”
And He’ll take the pain away
When it seems you’re all alone
Praise His name
When you feel you can’t go on
Just raise your hands and say
“Greater is He, that is within me”
You can praise the hurt away
If you’ll just praise His name
You can over come by the blood of the lamb
And by the word of your testimony
You’ll see the darkness go
As your faith begins to grow
You’re not alone, so how can you be lonely?
When everything falls apart
Praise His name
When you have a broken heart
Raise your hands and say
“Lord, You’re all I need
You’re everything to me”
And He’ll take the pain away
When it seems you’re all alone
Praise His name
When you feel you can’t go on
Just raise your hands and say
“Greater is He, that is within me”
You can praise the hurt away
“Greater is He, that is within me”
You can praise the hurt away
If you’ll just praise His name...
posted by ret at 12:37 PM
1 Comments:
Absolutely beautiful.
love you so much
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