The photo above shows the outside of what remains of the church called Teampall Bhreacain, Na Seacht dTeampaill, County Galway, Ireland. I believe it is also known as Church of the Hollow. I think r m dutina took all of these photos, but honestly I cannot remember. We were wandering separately around the grounds. When he caught up to me I could barely speak!
The altar from afar
Through the window of the ages Past the thick walls of time Stands a symbol of death Nay! Bright resurrection Hope of all men
The rough stones placed In geometrically sound patterns Of worship, of honor, of praise Roofless now that heaven may freely break through to us of long ages later Arches , capstones, edges of time Torn by the worship of long ago Until our hearts are lifted up To worship the same lovely truth
You came for us You come to us still To have us for Your own Encircling with Spirit Invading with Holy Illumine our techno age With truth of heaven Power of Holy Spirit of Life.
Why would I want to return to Church of the Hollow at Inishmore? I could have sat there for hours, listening, praying, in worship and wonder. Next time I would return with a folding chair!
Have your heard a Thrush? Wood or Hermit I am never quite certain, but always enchanted!
We heard it as we entered the the Porters Creek Trailhead in Greenbrier.
This bird always gives me cause to stop and praise the Lord. He did not have to create birds with such majestic songs, yet He lets us hear them and enjoy His handiwork. When we lived on Siesta Drive I would hear one each summer. I even saw it in our front yard once. Since we moved to Platform Street I have not heard one, until the other morning!
I am blessed to listen To her anthem of worship Not often do I hear her A special treat indeed
Perhaps she will find A place nearby to nest Regardless, she blesses me here now
Straining later to hear her song Was that the now rare Bob White quail? As a child I would hear it on summer mornings Having lost its habitat it is now most rare here
I strain for Your voice Lord Above all the other songs Yours is the one I want to hear over me.
The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17
Treasures in plain sight, and if you cannot spot them, they might be treasures within your hearing!
Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Matthew 6:26 NRSVA
On our hunt 2013 for pink Lady’s Slippers Elusive wild orchids of the Smoky Mountain woods I was surprised to see this woman With a walker that rolled It also had a seat for when she needed to rest
At first sight, I thought “poor thing’ At second glance I realized It likely was harder for her to get here Than me, walking under my own pained power But she was here to see The same sights as me. We both smiled with satisfaction At this glorious creation.
As we parted she asked the Lord’s blessing upon me. She also posed the question “Well, what else are we going to do?” Yes, we cope as best we can Whatever condition life throws at us
Now in 2024, viewing the Lady’s Slippers at the exact same location I pray she too was able to come see them this year
I will not forget her lesson of joy Determination, fortitude, courage Doing what your soul needs done Regardless of what your physique May declare
Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.
2 Corinthians 4:16-17 NIV
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.
Reading the entry for April 4 in The Edges of His Ways I came to this verse of her poem and thought you too might benefit from reading.
So individual is His thought For all of us, did one let go The hand of Joy, and, sore distraught, Forget to sing, His heart would know
Amy Carmichael
Father God knows the needs of each child and He is intimately involved in each formation and need. You are known. You are loved. The Almighty cares. Lean on Him for He cares about you! He has a personal walk with you. It will not be like that of any other person. We can share our insights and experiences, but our walk is personal.
Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.
I have been printing my poetry and placing it in the collection notebook. I am amazed that so far there 168 poems in the notebook. Some are a few lines long. Some are many verses. Some still need editing (not a task I like to do)!
Having spent much of Lent reflecting on Jesus asleep in the boat with me and the other disciples terrified in the storm I think it is perhaps time to share this poem. I am actually uncertain which poems i have shared and which ones I have not. Yes, I should have taken greater care with keeping a record of these!
23 And when he got into the boat, his disciples followed him. 24 A windstorm suddenly arose on the sea, so great that the boat was being swamped by the waves, but he was asleep. 25 And they went and woke him up, saying, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!” 26 And he said to them, “Why are you afraid, you of little faith?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a dead calm. 27 They were amazed, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?”
I have mentioned before how the Lord often gets my attention through a song. A snippet here. A lyric there, and soon I am on a chase like a dog after a rabbit. This week it has been “O Sacred Head Now Wounded.”
The photo on YouTube must be the guy who posted video and lyrics. That is certainly not Fernando Ortega!
Wikipedia says: The poem (lyrics) is often attributed to Bernard of Clairvaux (1091–1153), but is now attributed to the medieval poet Arnulf of Leuven (died 1250). Originally the poem had 7 stanzas referring to the various parts of Christ’s crucified body. The last 2 stanzas are the most famous today. Regardless it is a very old poem that was set to music over the ages in the 1700s and 1800s, etc.
I cannot seem to play this once, but sing it repeatedly! Why not listen again and see where the lyrics take you?
1. O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down, now scornfully surrounded with thorns, thine only crown: how pale thou art with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn! How does that visage languish which once was bright as morn!
2. What thou, my Lord, has suffered was all for sinners' gain; mine, mine was the transgression, but thine the deadly pain. Lo, here I fall, my Savior! 'Tis I deserve thy place; look on me with thy favor, vouchsafe to me thy grace.
3. What language shall I borrow to thank thee, dearest friend, for this thy dying sorrow, thy pity without end? O make me thine forever; and should I fainting be, Lord, let me never, never outlive my love for thee.
How do you honor the Lord and His sacrifice on our behalf as Lent ends and Easter approaches?
When I am trying to cope with unrelenting pain I often tell Bob it is as if I am being ground to powder. Reading Elisabeth Elliot’s book A Path Through Suffering I was blessed by her paraphrase of Job 7:19, 10:8-9.
Can’t you take your eyes off me? Won’t you leave me alone long enough to swallow my spit? You shaped me and made me; now you’ve turned to destroy me. You kneaded me like clay, now you’re grinding me to a powder.
Elisabeth Elliot
Unless you have endured pain that will not let up, no matter what you do or medication you may swallow, you might not get the idea of being ground to powder. It is as if every fiber of your being that was once solid, is being changed to powder, without substance, mere dust.
Early in my diagnosis of chronic illness I came across this quote. It has helped me endure some hours of ceaseless pain, turning loose of my clenched senses and releasing myself to the loving light of my Savior.
O God, grant that I may understand that it is You who are painfully parting the fibers of my being in order to penetrate to the very marrow of my substance and bear me away within Yourself. -Teilhard de Chardin, SJ
Teilhard de Chardin
While reading the last few days I was reminded (I do not remember in which book) that from dust we came and to dust we will return. Of course, you remember that Jesus also performed a miraculous healing by spitting and mixing it with dust, then rubbing it on a man’s eyes. (John 9) So why not use dust to awaken me to His presence and power even in the midst of pain. Even if it be the dust I call myself?
When you feel as if life is grinding you down to a powder how do you respond? Or do you just react? Elisabeth says of Job on page 52 “A living proof of a living faith was required, not only for Job’s friends, but for unseen powers in high places. Job’s suffering provided the context for a demonstration of trust. … To us who have the New Testament, it would seem that Job had very little to go on, yet he kept on talking to God.”
Job kept on talking to God, even when things looked bleak. In Job 13:15a Job declared, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.” Have you come to that extent of trust? Have you placed your all on the altar and left it there for God to use as He sees fit?
I had a friend named Char. She was slowly dying of lung cancer. I met her when I was giving a series of group lessons in crochet. She wanted to speak to me alone. We met several times at her house. One thing she really wanted the answer to had to do with prayer. She told me she talked to God all day long about everything. She asked me if she was “doing prayer right.” I assured her that nothing would please the Father more than to be included in every aspect of our life. Elliot pointed out that “Job kept on talking to God.” Are you continually talking to God? Do you invite Him in to your thoughts and activities throughout the day? Once your morning prayers and devotionals are over are you finished with God?
If I let myself feel the pain will I become intoxicated with the pain? Overwhelmed by the pain will my life then become JUST PAIN with no other sensation, value, or purpose? Will I be consumed with gauging the pain sitting in the pain walking in the pain? All my perceptions dulled except to pain under pain in pain pain through and through pain behind me ahead of me pain on all sides of me pain above me beneath me life reduced to pain in every cell pain Sleeplessness because of pain Restless when sleeping due to pain
If I acknowledge the pain will I have fortitude and courage to live beyond the pain, Somehow given grace to override the pain, not censor it ignore it deny it but live a life in the midst of pain always haunted by pain? Pain of bone deterioration, random muscle pain, unwarranted from any strain or excess.
Pain my life drugged or not my partner companion in my genes product of ancestral history or just misfortune?
For years my life has been pain denial pain drugs pain hope pain drained-of-hope pain denial I am afraid that no, the pain will never end, or, even worse, the pain will increase envelop, dictate, control my life.
There, I've written it. Many marvel that I'm so busy try to accomplish so much. They are not acquainted with my relentless task master who drives me on with fear that my capacity to accomplish anything will one day be diminished to near zero.
Jesus awoke in the boat and said, "Why are you so afraid?"
Yet then, through Him, I'll arise a phoenix intercessor on behalf of God's children engaged perhaps in the biggest battle of life to date. A supreme calling more valuable than my do-ings. With bones cracking, muscles aching, nerves shooting red hot signals to nowhere and everywhere outer body diminishing while inner woman draws upon her experience with the living, dynamic, omnipotent Father and she is renewed, remade in His image, inhabited daily, hourly, in every cell of her being by Holy Spirit overshadowed, indwelt in spite of all this carnal container can develop - a woman of God passing through journeying towards home where all sorrow, all tears, and all pain will be no more. Forever inhabited by Holy Spirit in rapturous adoration of His glory peace and mercy. Even so, Lord Jesus, I offer myself a living sacrifice unto You. Renew my mind according to the word and transform even this pain.
The ogre crumbles, rivulets of plaster dust falling from its once daunting facade gathering in powder clumps revealing its paltry nature.
1 Peter 4:19 encourages us to "entrust yourself to your faithful Creator." I pray you and I will both do this constantly regardless of how we feel.
Treasures in Plain Sight, A Christian Blog 