Dear Family and Friends:
When last I posted, I referred to Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking Glass and the tale of the Jabberwocky contained therein. The proud father welcomed his victorious son with exclamations of joy as he "chortled." That term has been in my family's vocabulary since I was a child, long enough for me to wonder if it was extant at the time of Carroll's use of it. Today I looked up the term "chortle" in my Webster's Dictionary and learned that Carroll invented it; Webster defines it as a joyful contraction of a of a snort and a chuckle, expressing great delight.
So what's the connection with prayer?
A very dear friend and a sincere Christian recently shyly expressed interest in learning to pray. I expressed sympathy with him as I had once been an very reluctant pray-er. Having been raised an Episcopalian, I was always more comfortable reading prayers to God than I was in speaking with Him.
That is, until I had a very dramatic and freeing encounter with Jesus which has had me chuckling ever since. But, that is a story for another time. The result, however, is that, unless I am reading a formalized prayer or collect, I can't seem to help chortling before I ever utter a word of prayer! It seems to be in response to the knowledge and assurance that my Father awaits me with open arms, uttering ejaculations of joy and delight, chortling all the while, "Come to my arms, my beamish boy!" He welcomes my communication attempts at any level of utterance, with or without formal words like "vouchsafe," "inestimable," and "miserable sinners," etc. Callou! Callay!
So, I delight in the opportunity to "teach us to pray," for as Jesus was to quickly demonstrate in his response to his disciple's request, you begin with expressing relationship...."Our Father." Not "Our Judge," or "Our stern old Grandfather." The real key to prayer is to first recognize the loving, approachable nature of our Heavenly Father, who delights in our relationship with Him. So, to teach anyone to pray is to first teach them the intimate nature of God.
Unfortunately, for many, the thought of going to father, is like being told to report to the Principal's office. If that's the case, great healing is required, which is something also for another opportunity. In the meantime, use the illustration of the mythical Jabberwocky's slaying, and the joy of the receptive father, to prompt you as you approach your welcoming father.
Chortle
Dick
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Blog #41 Jan 20, 2011 "O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" He chortled in his joy
Dear Family and friends:
For those not familiar with Lewis Caroll's Through the Looking Glass, the tale of the Jabberwocky is worth a quick read after a search on Google (just enter "Jabberwocky). The non-sense words do have enough sense to convey the story of a man warning his son of the dangers of the Jabberwocky (dragon). The son encounters the Jabberwock and slays it. The father receives his victorious son with these words:
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy!"
Allow me to chortle in my joy! I received a phone call yesterday that put me in such inexpressible joy that I could only think of these non-conventional words of expression. Those after, "Thank you, Lord Jesus!"
First a little back ground. For twelve years prior to our arrival in Orlando, I was rector of a small parish (St. Thomas) in a small Texas town (Wharton); we had a parish day school which, as the economy worsened, began to have serious financial difficulty, and eventually closed after 35+ yrs. It was a very difficult time in my life. My diagnosis of multiple myeloma in 2001 caused my retirement the following year. The school closed the year after that.
We began each day with the children, pre-K thru 8th grade trooping into chapel singing "I sing a song of the saints of God." We offered confession of our sins, recited the Apostle's creed and the Lord's Prayer, read some Scripture, sang some songs, prayed for those with birthdays, health or family issues, and for our city and nation. Singing another song, they trooped out and gave me a hug or a handshake at the door.
Since that last day I was with them, I have often wondered what impact that daily ritual has had on their lives. I suppose my personal Jabberwock was the question of whether anything lasting came out of those twelve years. Did those St. Thomas kids go on to public school and continue to begin their day with our school prayer,
"Dear God; come with me to school and be with me in my lessons and in my play;
help me to be careful in my studies, obedient to my teachers, friendly and thoughtful
of others, and like Jesus in my words and deeds. Amen"
Well, yesterday, out of the blue, I got a phone call from a young man who is still in Wharton and in full time ministry with his church and a couple of other smaller ones. He is married and has four children! He said he has never forgotten the confession, the Lord's prayer, the creed, or the school prayer. In fact, he has taught them to his children, and the youngest (four yrs old) chides him if he forgets!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! I chortle in my joy! Thou hast slain my Jabberwock! Come to my arms my beamish boy!
No greater joy can come than to know that some of the seeds cast landed in fertile ground! Thank you Jesus, for the priviledge of seeing that fruit! Forgive me, Lord, for thinking that it was all up to me to be successful. Continue that which you have planned and nurtured in your time.
Rejoice with me, my beloved!
Dick
For those not familiar with Lewis Caroll's Through the Looking Glass, the tale of the Jabberwocky is worth a quick read after a search on Google (just enter "Jabberwocky). The non-sense words do have enough sense to convey the story of a man warning his son of the dangers of the Jabberwocky (dragon). The son encounters the Jabberwock and slays it. The father receives his victorious son with these words:
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy!"
Allow me to chortle in my joy! I received a phone call yesterday that put me in such inexpressible joy that I could only think of these non-conventional words of expression. Those after, "Thank you, Lord Jesus!"
First a little back ground. For twelve years prior to our arrival in Orlando, I was rector of a small parish (St. Thomas) in a small Texas town (Wharton); we had a parish day school which, as the economy worsened, began to have serious financial difficulty, and eventually closed after 35+ yrs. It was a very difficult time in my life. My diagnosis of multiple myeloma in 2001 caused my retirement the following year. The school closed the year after that.
We began each day with the children, pre-K thru 8th grade trooping into chapel singing "I sing a song of the saints of God." We offered confession of our sins, recited the Apostle's creed and the Lord's Prayer, read some Scripture, sang some songs, prayed for those with birthdays, health or family issues, and for our city and nation. Singing another song, they trooped out and gave me a hug or a handshake at the door.
Since that last day I was with them, I have often wondered what impact that daily ritual has had on their lives. I suppose my personal Jabberwock was the question of whether anything lasting came out of those twelve years. Did those St. Thomas kids go on to public school and continue to begin their day with our school prayer,
"Dear God; come with me to school and be with me in my lessons and in my play;
help me to be careful in my studies, obedient to my teachers, friendly and thoughtful
of others, and like Jesus in my words and deeds. Amen"
Well, yesterday, out of the blue, I got a phone call from a young man who is still in Wharton and in full time ministry with his church and a couple of other smaller ones. He is married and has four children! He said he has never forgotten the confession, the Lord's prayer, the creed, or the school prayer. In fact, he has taught them to his children, and the youngest (four yrs old) chides him if he forgets!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! I chortle in my joy! Thou hast slain my Jabberwock! Come to my arms my beamish boy!
No greater joy can come than to know that some of the seeds cast landed in fertile ground! Thank you Jesus, for the priviledge of seeing that fruit! Forgive me, Lord, for thinking that it was all up to me to be successful. Continue that which you have planned and nurtured in your time.
Rejoice with me, my beloved!
Dick
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Blog #40 Jan 18, 2011 The Best News Yet!
Dear Family and Friends:
I've been to several doctors in recent weeks; I saw my stem cell doc yesterday. He looked at the results of my December blood draw and beamed, "I think we can use the term 'almost complete response' with you. Your cancer is not discernable." (there are two factors in this assessment - one of them indicates no discernable cancer - and there's an itty-bitty something in the other, hence the inclusion of the term "almost" The doc thinks that one is going to disappear also!)
Whoopie! Praise the Lord Jesus! Only by His grace and mercy!
While we are exultant about my status and more than willing to "share the good news," we are especially aware of friends who are in the same or similar process of dealing with cancer and for whom the future is not so bright at the moment. I don't want to blunt my witness, nor do I want to trumpet it so that anyone would be offended by it inferring that I think I alone am special, or that "I got healed; what's wrong with you? I must be His favorite!"
Please Jesus, keep me joyful but humble!
The other good report is that my recent PSA is now .71! Down from a 4.0! Again, thank you Jesus! Not sure where we go from this point in that regard, but it's sounding pretty good!
AND, the cholesterol is 184, which is pretty good too!
All in all, the Lord is taking good care of me, especially when I cooperate!
I'm pretty much over the cold I caught at Christmas, although I have a nigglin dry cough. But, sooooo much better than before! Thanks for your prayers in all the issues concerning my health!
So, what do you want me to do, now, Lord?
Peace, joy, love, and hope,
Dick
I've been to several doctors in recent weeks; I saw my stem cell doc yesterday. He looked at the results of my December blood draw and beamed, "I think we can use the term 'almost complete response' with you. Your cancer is not discernable." (there are two factors in this assessment - one of them indicates no discernable cancer - and there's an itty-bitty something in the other, hence the inclusion of the term "almost" The doc thinks that one is going to disappear also!)
Whoopie! Praise the Lord Jesus! Only by His grace and mercy!
While we are exultant about my status and more than willing to "share the good news," we are especially aware of friends who are in the same or similar process of dealing with cancer and for whom the future is not so bright at the moment. I don't want to blunt my witness, nor do I want to trumpet it so that anyone would be offended by it inferring that I think I alone am special, or that "I got healed; what's wrong with you? I must be His favorite!"
Please Jesus, keep me joyful but humble!
The other good report is that my recent PSA is now .71! Down from a 4.0! Again, thank you Jesus! Not sure where we go from this point in that regard, but it's sounding pretty good!
AND, the cholesterol is 184, which is pretty good too!
All in all, the Lord is taking good care of me, especially when I cooperate!
I'm pretty much over the cold I caught at Christmas, although I have a nigglin dry cough. But, sooooo much better than before! Thanks for your prayers in all the issues concerning my health!
So, what do you want me to do, now, Lord?
Peace, joy, love, and hope,
Dick
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Blog #39 Jan 6, 2011 Nearly "Nunc dismissit" Almost
Dear Family and friends:
A Blessed Epiphany and a Happy New Year! (kof!, kof!)
When last I wrote, I said "Nunc Dimittis" in celebration of all that was currently going on (Christmas et al).
Well, be careful of what you ask for, even in jest! Of all the sights, sounds, tastes, and touches I was rejoicing over, something reached out and touched me, and sent me home from Maryland a very sick puppy. I was so-so on the trip home, but when we got home on the 29th, I hit the sack and was really miserable (pronounced "midderable") until just today. Fortunately I never ran a fever, as that would have meant hospitalization (probably).
What I had was a down to earth old fashioned head cold that prevented me from lying down for very long at a time: I had to sit up in order to breathe (pronounced "brede") Oh misery untold!
I missed the New Year's celebration, Amy's birthday, and two Sundays in Church. But, since I was "up" anyway, I did manage to see just about as many of the football games as were broadcast...and that's a lot! So there is some grace in this.
It just goes to prove what my doctors have cautioned me about exposure to crowds and weather, etc. My whole immune system was knocked out by the transplant and will not be back to anywhere near normal for a year. That includes all my shots, too: polio, typhus, smallpox, yellow fever, red neck fever, martian zizzplax, etc. In about two months, I should be able to get a flu shot. Meantime, I'd better be careful around crowds.
I'm still pretty puny, but I am sooooo much better than the last 10 days! Yea God! thank you for your mercy. Don't take me yet, God, I didn't finish our Christmas cards before we left. They are now Epiphany letters!
God Bless! May this day be a new Epiphany of our Lord Jesus to your life; may this year be yet a stronger epiphany of Jesus in your countenance and in your lifestyle.
Dick
A Blessed Epiphany and a Happy New Year! (kof!, kof!)
When last I wrote, I said "Nunc Dimittis" in celebration of all that was currently going on (Christmas et al).
Well, be careful of what you ask for, even in jest! Of all the sights, sounds, tastes, and touches I was rejoicing over, something reached out and touched me, and sent me home from Maryland a very sick puppy. I was so-so on the trip home, but when we got home on the 29th, I hit the sack and was really miserable (pronounced "midderable") until just today. Fortunately I never ran a fever, as that would have meant hospitalization (probably).
What I had was a down to earth old fashioned head cold that prevented me from lying down for very long at a time: I had to sit up in order to breathe (pronounced "brede") Oh misery untold!
I missed the New Year's celebration, Amy's birthday, and two Sundays in Church. But, since I was "up" anyway, I did manage to see just about as many of the football games as were broadcast...and that's a lot! So there is some grace in this.
It just goes to prove what my doctors have cautioned me about exposure to crowds and weather, etc. My whole immune system was knocked out by the transplant and will not be back to anywhere near normal for a year. That includes all my shots, too: polio, typhus, smallpox, yellow fever, red neck fever, martian zizzplax, etc. In about two months, I should be able to get a flu shot. Meantime, I'd better be careful around crowds.
I'm still pretty puny, but I am sooooo much better than the last 10 days! Yea God! thank you for your mercy. Don't take me yet, God, I didn't finish our Christmas cards before we left. They are now Epiphany letters!
God Bless! May this day be a new Epiphany of our Lord Jesus to your life; may this year be yet a stronger epiphany of Jesus in your countenance and in your lifestyle.
Dick
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