hymns

Alphabet Praise

/ jdunderwood / 2 Comments

This morning I glanced through an old issue (May/June of ’07) of a Discipleship Journal (a fantastic NavPress magazine that ceased publication about six years ago) and read an article titled “The 20 Minute Worship Challenge” by Becky Harling. In it she describes how beginning each day with a concentrated time of praise transformed a difficult season in her life. Harling praised in different ways: singing along with music, “praising” through the alphabet, and reading praise Psalms aloud. Following her article was an inset titled “Praises from A to Z,” an excerpt from the book Pray with Purpose, Live with Passion by Debbie Williams (which, by the way, looks really good! Click on the title above to visit its Amazon page.)

I didn’t read the inset piece because I was about to head out for a run, and I wanted to pray my own praise alphabet during the first part of it. I can’t now remember all the words I came up with, but a few stuck with me long enough to write them down. I’m leaving the ones I can’t recall blank in case you want to fill them in for yourself.

My Running ABCs of Praise 

A: Awe. I was just starting the run, and the heavy humidity hadn’t yet drenched me. The light was hazy through the treetops, and I was in awe that God had created the waving branches and that specific quality of light that would so bedazzle my eyes.

B: ______________

C: Care. “He careth for you(me).” That phrase from my King James Version-steeped childhood chimed in my head. He—GOD of the universe—CARES for itty-bitty me.

D: ________________

E: Excellent. He is excellent—in all facets. Full marks in everything. Enough said. Come to think of it, “enough” is good, too. He is—enough.

F: Fair. “Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler of all nature/O Thou of God and man the Son/Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor/Thou, my soul’s glory, joy and crown.” Old hymn—but still and always true.

G: Good. Wholly GOOD, no bad in Him at all. AT ALL. Good—to the core, to the very last drop, in all His beings/doings/imaginings. (Don’t know about you, but I can’t imagine being that good. Snotty thoughts of one kind or another pass through my mind on a very regular basis–sometimes most frequently when I’m trying to be most good!)

H: Healer. Oh, how I have experienced God’s work in my life as my healer, the great Physician who sees my brokenness and knows how to cure it.

I: Inimitable. Great word meaning “not able to be imitated.” Very true. Lucifer tried. Humanity tried. Both failed—with disastrous results. Only the inimitable God is completely uncorrupted by power.

J: ___________________

K: Kind. I tell my kids all the time I don’t want them to be merely “nice.” I want them to be KIND. Nice is a polite smile, an averted gaze, a penny in the bucket. Kind is a helping hand, a listening ear, a shared laugh–or cry, and a walking alongside. Kind can even be tough when it needs to be. Nice is focused on me; kind is focused on what is good for the other person.

L: Love. Basic but mind blowing. God is LOVE. Wow.

M: Mysterious. Not a tame lion, our Jesus, our God, but One Who must be true only to Himself. He doesn’t answer to me, the President, anybody. Just Himself, and He’s so big He’s unfathomable to us tiny-brained humans. That makes Him pretty mysterious.

M: Mine (I couldn’t resist a second one for “m” because, oh, my word, the mysterious God of the universe allows me to call Him “mine.”)

N: _______________

O: (Later I thought of “Omega,” but that felt like cheating. So I’m putting it here but also confessing.)

P: _________________

Q: Quintessence. Besides simply being a cool word, it’s a fantastic descriptor for God, and specifically for Christ. “The most perfect embodiment of something.” Christ is the ultimate quintessence of God.

R: Real. Not imaginary, not able to be disproved. He’s the realest of the real. He will exist though all else be stripped away. The scene in The Silver Chair when Puddleglum argues with the Witch about reality is a fantastic treatise on this idea.

S: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Wow—that word is in spellcheck! Thank you, Mary Poppins and P. L. Travers. If ever anyone deserves this most scrumptious and sing-able of multi-syllabic words, it’s God.

T: Tried and true. “True” as in “real”—see letter “r.” “Tried” as in “never failing” and willing to prove this to us time and again and again so we can know this through personal experience.

U: Ubiquitous. Honest, it really was the first word that came to mind (okay, maybe “unique” popped up first, but it was immediately rejected as being too blah). But then—more honesty—I thought, “You know, I’m not quite sure what ‘ubiquitous’ means.” Well, I looked it up later, and it means “existing or being everywhere; especially at the same time; omnipresent.” PERFECT!

V: Verity. Another word from the KJV. “The state or quality of being true; accordance with fact or reality.” Psalm 111:7 “The works of his hands are verity and judgment; all his commandments are sure.”

W: Whirlwind. I know it’s a weird choice, but one of the things I most appreciate about God (after the fact, at least) is that He is willing to come into my life and heart at times with a gust-like force that disturbs me, that makes me take inventory, that makes me change.

X: Xylophone didn’t fit. If you come up with any, let me know.

Z: Zenith. “highest point or state; culmination.” A good descriptor for God and a proper ending for this list.

Note: I have also used the alphabet for intercessory prayer for others. I just pray for a person/situation/organization/place I know that begins with the letter A (or several) and then move on to the rest of the letters.

 

Joy, Resurrected

/ jdunderwood / 2 Comments

*The audio link of my reading is at the bottom.

How do you lose joy? She must have failed to hold onto it. Perhaps she’d forgotten it completely, left it in a corner, and it had wandered off, hoping to find a home where it wouldn’t be neglected. “I’ve lost my joy,” she tells her husband, and he nods.

Oh dear, it’s noticeable! she thinks.

Where do you begin looking for joy?

She tries singing as she does the tasks that annoy her most. She hums as she packs the children’s lunches, warbles in the car, belts it out when she de-clutters the living room.

Where are you, joy? she wonders, I can’t sing any louder. Can’t you hear me?

She tries putting on a show of it. Didn’t she hear a pastor say once that the outward action of love can kindle the feeling?

Or was that her college drama director talking about action and emotion?

She’s not sure, but she tries it.

Smile, she tells herself.

Smile bigger!

She shoves grumpiness down. She swats selfish thoughts like pesky gnats.

Joy, come back! Please.

She is sitting, alone at her desk, absorbed in work, when she senses a presence nearby.

Joy? Are you there? I caught a glimpse of you.

Man, I wish my knees still bent like that!

Man, I wish my knees still bent like that!

But when the house bustles again, when children’s squabbles break the quiet—joy recedes.

Oh, she realizes, I am allowing the noise to drive joy away. But joy doesn’t have to have peace and quiet. Joy doesn’t mind chaos, excitement.

I haven’t lost joy.

I’ve sent it away.

I am telling it when it can be present, and when it can’t.

How do I invite joy into my full life—all of it? How do I keep from shutting it out?

Still missing joy, she goes to the Good Friday service.

It is good to reflect, to be with others, all reflecting together.

They sing, they read, they listen.

But she is waiting, though she doesn’t know what she is waiting for.

There is something here for me tonight, she thinks. I’m not sure how I know this, but I do.

The sermon is finished. They have taken communion. Her shoulders slump. It was good, but…

The pastor speaks again. “Some of you have lost your joy,” he says. “You’ve lost the joy of your salvation, your redemption. Come to the cross.”

Her hands tremble.

Her body feels light.

She knows this is for her.

It may be for others as well, but it is clearly for her.

But she will have to get up, cross the room, walk in front of so many sets of eyes.

He is still speaking. “Come. We will pray for you, that here at the cross you will remember your source of joy.”

She gets up, quick.

Her husband, beside her, stands, too.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

She nods.

By the time they reach the cross, there are others.

I am not the only one, she thinks. We have all lost joy.

Pastors pray. She hears only snatches of their words over the music.

But that is all right, because it is the song she needs to hear.

“Behold the man upon the cross,

My sin upon his shoulders;

Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice

Call out among the scoffers.

It was my sin that held him there…”

Somehow, in the second of space before the next line of the song, she experiences guilt, sorrow, despair. I did send you there. It was my sin. It was my selfishness. Oh God, I love You, but I don’t know how to stop hurting You. I am unable to pull my thoughts away from myself, away from what I am feeling or not feeling.

All this in a God-stretched moment.

And then…

“Until it was accomplished;

His dying breath has brought me life—

I know that it is finished.”

Stop, she commands herself. See truth. Christ does not have to die again. He has done it! I AM redeemed. It is not the chaos that is driving joy away; it is my fear that when I sink into moodiness, into selfishness, that I have stepped out of redemption. But that can never be. He finished it.

“I will not boast in anything,

No gifts, no pow’r, no wisdom;

But I will boast in Jesus Christ,

His death and resurrection.

…

But this I know with all my heart,

His wounds have paid my ransom.”

Paid, accomplished, finished—in a transaction that is outside the scope of time. It is not undone when she grows grumpy yet again, not taken back when she fails or is petty. She looks up at the Christ figure on the cross. Through that finished work, she tellsherself, I am redeemed. My sin does not for one single moment make that untrue. It is present and ongoing, without conditions. Without resting at all on me. I can have joy IN my grumpiness. It is not limited only to when I am feeling peaceful and good but is a reality even when I am fully aware of my own sinful nature.

She feels her husband’s hands on her shoulders. They have been there all along. She just now senses their gentle weight.

“Behold the man upon a cross,

My sin upon His shoulders”

He took it from me—and He abolished it. Why do I try to carry what He has already taken?

The load rolls off.

And joy resurrects.

 

Resting Place

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No connection to today's post--I just like the look of joy on Mad's face!

No connection to today’s post–I just like the look of joy on Mad’s face.

I went to a women’s service at our church yesterday. For two days I’d wrestled with a strange melancholy. I’d tried and tried to understand it, but couldn’t. I’d searched my soul, confessed the self-focus I saw, and asked the Holy Spirit to reveal other issues. I’d looked at the level of my mommy martyrdom—yes, there was some, but it wasn’t high enough to explain my strange sadness. I thought of things going on around me: my renewed research on sex trafficking, a friend going through a very difficult time, the transition to being a mom of a teenager…

Nothing jumped forward as a principal cause.

I tried reminding myself that others were dealing with horrible losses and troubles. They had real reason to be sad. I did not.

That didn’t help.

Is it all right to sometimes not know the reasons for our lows? Is it all right to simply be sad sometimes without clear cause?

I think it might be, if only because of the ways the Lord ministered to me yesterday morning without my ever learning the why and what of my mood.

The speaker for our service had chosen II Chronicles 20 as the text. King Jehoshaphat and the people of Judah knew a great enemy was coming against them. They chose not to trust in their own might or in the might of allies. Instead, they turned to God. They fasted and prayed and cried, and finally Jehoshaphat stood in front of his people and said, “Oh, Lord, we do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (vs. 12b).

Well, I’m not really faced with a decision right now, but the not-knowing certainly fits me right now, I thought.

At the close of the service, we sang “I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say” by Horatius Bonar, one of my favorite hymn writers.

I heard the voice of Jesus say

Come unto Me and rest

Lay down thy weary one

Lay down thy head upon My breast

I came to Jesus as I was

Weary, worn, and sad

I found in Him a resting place

And He has made me glad.

It was as if the Holy Spirit whispered the words to my heart. Weary?—yes. Worn and sad?—yes, yes. I didn’t know why (still don’t) and that’s all right.

Because, finally, when I rested and simply said, “I’m sad, Lord. I don’t know why. Here’s my sorrow,” He gave rest to my soul.

And He made me glad.

*The second and third stanzas of the hymn are truly beautiful as well. Here’s the link. And if you’d like to hear/sing it, here’s a Youtube video with words and music.

Morning Glory

/ jdunderwood / 2 Comments

Friday morning, before the getting-ready-for-the-last-day-of-school rush, I biked, Chai dog by my side, to the dog park, where I tromped around, fast, trying to avoid the mosquitos. I reviewed the Scripture passage I’m memorizing, but not a whole lot of thinking was going on. As I swung back on my bike, ready to pedal home, I thought, “Oh, I should pray.”

That’s not a bad thing. But there was a hint to it of “I have to do the right thing. I have to go about this the right way. This is what will please the Lord.”

My mind immediately went to confession and prayer for others—because that’s more “godly prayer,” right? That’s what pleases God most—my attempts at being humble and others-centered.

Right?

God was having none of it.

But rather than a thunderbolt from the sky, He got my attention with JOY.

The trees waved their branches at me—hey,

Em likes to make--and then photograph--food creations! Yummy smoothie.

Em likes to make–and then photograph–food creations! Yummy smoothie.

look over here!—and the wind flowed over my collarbone like it was trying to tickle my neck. Happy dog on a leash at my side, green grass on left and right, hum of bike tires, and when I pulled up to my house, two ducks—a mama and a daddy!—perched on our chimney!

The bubble of joy burst and showered me with droplets, and I shut down confession/supplication and let myself BE in God.

Gratitude welled up to meet the joy raining down, and an old hymn rose.

Morning has broken, like the first morning.

Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird.

Praise for the singing, praise for the morning

Praise for the springing fresh from the Word.

Yes! Be in God. Let Him guide heart prayer into His glad fullness, His sheer joyful goodness, His eagerness to share Himself with me.

Romp in the revelation of right righteousness revealed. (Couldn’t resist the alliteration!)

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning,

Born of the one light Eden saw play.

Praise with elation, praise every morning;

God’s recreation of the new day.

 

“Morning Has Broken,” words by Eleanor Farjeon, 1931

 

More and Less: the Usefulness of an Impure Pen

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“He must become more.

I must become less.”

John the Baptist’s followers were amazed by their leader’s statement about Christ’s increasing popularity and John’s decreasing fame. “What’s wrong with him?” they wondered. “Doesn’t he realize this is bad for him?”

Deep down, their concern was about themselves, not John. “What about us?” they might have been thinking. “This is not good for US. We were disciples of the popular guy. We were up and coming, well-known. But this guy is cornering in on our market, and our résumés are suffering.”

Confession: I am so very guilty of this. Every time I submit a magazine/Web article or post a blog, there is at least a hint of selfishness. Underneath the good desires (I hope others are encouraged by my journey; I hope my work honors God) are seedier ones. Will people like it? Will this make me better known? Will this lead to bigger writing assignments and opportunities?

Ugh!

I long for completely pure motives, but I know that on earth I’m simply not capable of them. My old nature will always taint my motives, and I have to constantly face this truth. I recognize the selfish motive, acknowledge it to God in confession, ask for His help, and move on–until selfishness creeps in again. It’s a never-ending battle.

At times I get tired of it, sometimes so tired I want to give up: I want to stop submitting, stop posting.

But I feel called to persist, and John the Baptist’s words encourage me to keep fighting. John said, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” He didn’t say, “He’s great; I’m not. That’s it.” A process is implied in his statement. The Amplified version adds these words: “He must grow more prominent; I must grow less so.”

Now I know John the Baptist was a prophet. I know there is a prophetic sense to these words: they are referring to Jesus being lifted up as the Savior of the world and of John being seen as Christ’s servant, His herald. Perhaps John wasn’t speaking about a heart process at all but merely the actual events that were about to take place. He may very well have been so in tune with God’s plan that he wasn’t referring to his own selfishness at all.

But when I say them, that’s exactly what I’m referring to. I’m a lot more like John’s followers than I am like John. Though I know and understand more and more the overwhelming majesty and greatness of Christ, the reality is that I lose that viewpoint all the time; I feel that I should be the center of attention. THAT’S my battle, and the process hinted at in John’s statement encourages me to keep fighting it: “Christ must grow more prominent. I must grow less so.”

So I can GROW in decreasing (that’s a cool paradox). Exalting Christ can become greater and greater in my motivations. I can become less and less. Like Paul learned contentment, I can learn this.

I have a personal teacher who helps me with this very difficult lesson. In Colossians 1, Paul tells the believers at Colossae he continually prays that God will fill them with the knowledge of His will through the wisdom and understanding the Spirit gives so (they) may live lives worthy of the Lord, please Him in every way, and bear fruit.

I know God’s will for me as a writer; it is for HIM to be exalted through my writing.

And the Spirit, my teacher, is not only able to sanctify my motives, the Spirit is also fully capable of using my writing to exalt God at the same time!

The Spirit will enable me to please God with my pen and keyboard, to bear fruit through my words,

Kelly and Em at the junior high gala last night. Two beautiful girls! I must admit, though, my thought all night was, "But how did the time go so fast?"

Kelly and Em at the junior high gala last night. Two beautiful girls! I must admit, though, my thought all night was, “But how did the time go so fast?”

AND to “live worthy” as a writer.

Now THAT is Good News!

 

*Here are a couple of stanzas from the hymn “Holy Spirit, Truth Divine” by Samuel Longfellow (brother of the famous Henry Wadsworth Longfellow) that perfectly express the ideas in this post (and in far fewer words—oh, to be a poet).

Holy Spirit, Truth divine,

Dawn upon this soul of mine;

Word of God and inward light,

Wake my spirit, clear my sight.

 

Holy Spirit, Love divine,

Glow within this heart of mine;

Kindle every high desire;

Perish self in thy pure fire.

points of the compass

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This is an image I downloaded from the Voice of the Martyrs website (with their permission). The man on the left is Christian Bounchan Kanthavong, who spent 13 years and eight months in prison in Laos for his faith. On the right is the actor who portrays him in a video made by VOM that tells his story.

Today is the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church. If you want to read more about the persecuted church, I suggest the Voice of the Martyrs website (www.persecution.com). Along with great resources and a regularly published newsletter,the VOM website allows you to sign up for weekly prayer updates that will help you to pray specifically (I don’t know about you, but my generalized prayers don’t pack a lot of oomph). VOM also has a really cool letter-writing opportunity. If you go to http://www.prisoneralert.com, you can pick an imprisoned fellow believer and choose phrases to create a letter to encourage that person. The site translates the phrases, you print them, and then you can send the letter to the address the site provides.

Another website is http://www.opendoorsusa.org, and http://www.persecutedchurch.org has an even fuller list of organizations (and their websites) that support the persecuted church.

This morning in church we read Revelations 7:9-11: “…there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. 10 And they cried out in a loud voice: “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.” 11 All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12 saying: “Amen! Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and strength be to our God for ever and ever. Amen!” 13 Then one of the elders asked me, “These in white robes—who are they, and where did they come from?” 14 I answered, “Sir, you know.” And he said, “These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.15 Therefore, “they are before the throne of God  and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence. 16 ‘Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat down on them,’[a] nor any scorching heat. 17 For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; ‘he will lead them to springs of living water.’[b] ‘And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.’[c]”

Earlier this week I ran across a hymn by John Oxenham (1852-1941) that reminded me of the incredible family connection we have with believers in Christ all across the earth. I’m sharing it here:

IN CHRIST THERE IS NO EAST OR WEST

In Christ there is no east or west,

In Him no south or north;

But one great fellowship of love

Throughout the whole wide earth.

In Him shall true hearts everywhere

Their high communion find;

His service is the golden cord

Close binding all mankind.

Join hands, then brothers of the faith,

Whate’er your race may be.

Who serves my Father as a son

Is surely kin to me.

In Christ now meet both east and west,

In Him meet south and north;

All Christly souls are one in Him

Throughout the whole wide earth.

Thank you, Horatius Bonar

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Horatius Bonar! That’s a name you won’t forget! Mr. Bonar was a Scottish churchman and poet in the 1800s (1808-1889). He was one of eleven children (two of his brothers were John James and Andrew; who knows why Horatius got the far more interesting handle!). He was a supporter of the Scottish revival and wrote biographical sketches of many of the revivalists. He was also a pastor, an author of several books, a hymnwriter (he wrote hundreds of them!), a poet, and an evangelist. He was almost 80 when he preached for the last time in his church.

BIG things, a great resume, but what brought Mr. Bonar to my attention was a hymn that he wrote about small things, about praise filling “every part,” even the “common things” of life, so that fellowship with Christ makes all “duties and deeds” sacred and turns each “fear, fret, and care” into a song.

I like to be able to sing my hymns, and the original tune for this, though very pretty, is not well known. However, it can also be sung to the tune of Isaac Watts’ “I Sing the Mighty Power of God,” with two stanzas of the hymn below combined for each verse. Hope you enjoy.

Fill thou my life, O Lord my God,
in every part with praise,
that my whole being may proclaim
thy being and thy ways.

Not for the lip of praise alone,
nor e’en the praising heart
I ask, but for a life made up
of praise in every part!

Praise in the common things of life,
its goings out and in;
praise in each duty and deed,
however small and mean.

Fill every part of me with praise;
let all my being speak
of thee and of thy love, O Lord,
poor though I be, and weak.

So shalt thou, Lord, from me, e’en me,
receive the glory due;
and so shall I begin on earth
the song forever new.

So shall each fear, each fret, each care
be turned into a song,
and every winding of the way
the echo shall prolong;

So shall no part of day or night
from sacredness be free;
but all my life, in every step
be fellowship with thee.

Thank you, Horatius Bonar, for using your God-given talents to bless me with these words.

Note: If you would like to read more about Mr. Bonar, a Google search reveals several sites about him and lists his other hymns as well as his books. His personal life was just as busy as his “professional” life of pastoring and writing. He and his wife, Jane, also a hymnwriter, had nine children, but five of them died very young. Later one of their daughters was widowed, and she returned, with her five children, to live with her parents. Jane died when Horatius was in his early 60s, and he suffered with illness for the last couple years of his life.

Oddly enough, though he wrote more than 600 hymns, his church did not sing hymns during the worship service! Late in his life, he began to sing one of his hymns in a worship service, and two of the elders walked out.

‘Tis so sweet

/ jdunderwood / 3 Comments

Confession: I am a bathroom reader. It’s a combination of my love for reading, my desire to redeem all the little minutes :), and the discovery I made as a young mother that the bathroom can be a RETREAT! I rotate books in the bathrooms. As I finish one, another takes its place, but one book has taken up almost permanent status. It’s the One Year Book of Hymns, which features hymn lyrics each day and either the background story of the hymn or a devotional based on it. It’s a great book that I read just about every day (at the bottom of this post you’ll find two links: the FB link is to a page that posts the lyrics/devotional each day as well as a performance of the hymn; and the Amazon link is just in case you want to buy it!).

Every once in a while, I get intrigued enough by the background that goes with the hymn that I do more research on it, and the story usually ends up on my blog. If I begin blogging more regularly–one of my goals–this might become a weekly feature. Today’s story is about Louisa Stead and her hymn, “‘Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus.”

Born around 1850 in England, Louisa moved to the United States when she was 21. She attended a revival meeting and felt the Lord was calling her to mission work, but her health kept her from China, where she wanted to go. She married, and a year later the couple had a daughter, Lily. When Lily was four years old, the family went to the seashore for the day. As they picnicked on the beach, they heard a young boy calling for help out in the water. Louisa’s husband swam out to help, but the boy pulled him under and Mr. Stead drowned (some accounts say the boy died as well).

Louisa was left not just as a grieving widow, but as a poor mother with no family in the States to lean on. One morning, with no money left and no food in the house, she opened her front door and found both food and money on the doorstep. That day she wrote the words to “‘Tis so Sweet to Trust in Jesus.”

  1. ’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
    Just to take Him at His Word;
    Just to rest upon His promise,
    And to know, “Thus saith the Lord!”

    • Refrain:
      Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!
      How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er;
      Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
      Oh, for grace to trust Him more!
  2. Oh, how sweet to trust in Jesus,
    Just to trust His cleansing blood;
    And in simple faith to plunge me
    ’Neath the healing, cleansing flood!
  3. Yes, ’tis sweet to trust in Jesus,
    Just from sin and self to cease;
    Just from Jesus simply taking
    Life and rest, and joy and peace.
  4. I’m so glad I learned to trust Thee,
    Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend;
    And I know that Thou art with me,
    Wilt be with me to the end.

Louisa’s trust in Jesus continued to grow. With her health improved, she moved with Lily to South Africa, where she served as a missionary and met and married Robert Wodehouse. When Louisa had more health problems, they returned to the States for some years, during which Wodehouse pastored a church. When Louisa was better, they went to Rhodesia, where they served until 1911, when Louisa’s health forced her to retire from active work. She lived in Rhodesia until her death in 1917. Her fellow missionaries wrote this about her:

We miss her very much, but her influence goes on as our five thousand native Christians continually sing this hymn in their native language.

She trusted Jesus’ promises “to the end,” and she passed on this faith to her daughter, Lily Stead Carson, who, with her husband, also served as a missionary in Rhodesia.

LINKS:

http://www.facebook.com/The.One.Year.Book.Of.Hyms.Daily.Devotional

http://www.amazon.com/s/?ie=UTF8&keywords=one+year+book+of+hymns&tag=googhydr-20&index=stripbooks&hvadid=2768348161&hvpos=1t1&hvexid