A long absence explained

Anyone who is a regular visitor to my blog will have noticed the very lengthy gap between my post in June and the previous post in October. Last spring, it was my intention to record a second CD in July and I did, in fact, have studio time booked to do just that. But in mid-June plans suddenly changed. My family had been living in a side by side (duplex) home for over 12 years and through most of that time, we had really good neighbours. We got along well, respected each other's noise tolerance levels and had a friendly relationship. Two years ago that changed and the noise level became a point of unresolvable tension. My breaking point came with a confrontation that made me realize 'compromise' was not in their vocabulary.

We had planned to move in 2012 and had been keeping an eye on the housing market for awhile, just to know what was out there. Suddenly, our efforts were put into high gear and within 10 weeks we looked, bought, sold and moved. (A note to readers not in my part of the world: it is a seller's market where we live. We bought 1st knowing we would have no trouble selling afterwards; we lived near the U of Manitoba and affordable housing is hard to find.)

Right from the day of our decision, I began to pray that God would lead us to the right home for us. The song that kept coming to me was Don Moen's "God will make a way where there seems to be no way." It became a litany of sorts to get me through a process I knew would be stressful and tedious. The first day we looked at homes, we saw one we really liked. We made an offer and knew we were not the only ones offering so were not really surprised when we didn't get the house. Two days after closing, our agent called us. "You won't believe what happened! The buyer's financing fell through. The house is yours if you want it." Yes! We matched the previously accepted offer and that house is now our home. The amazing thing is that we were not the second offer in line - we were the fifth! God made a way where there seemed to be no way!

Some of the lovely walking paths in the park directly behind our new home.

On the other side of Easter

Now that Easter has come, but not quite gone, (we're still in the church season of Easter) I can focus on upcoming events. The next thing on the calendar is wrapping up the choir season at St. Andrew's. With Easter being so late this year, (I think nearly as late as it can possibly be) there are only 3 Sundays left before the Victoria Day weekend which is when we end choir for the summer. I generally feel like we're coasting downhill to the finish line and that's okay. There is a time and season to everything under the sun.

The second event on the horizon is a pair of concerts in southern Ontario in 3 weeks' time. While I'm down, I will also be able to spend precious time with my Mom and other family members, and attend the first ever national women's conference for the Presbyterian Church in Canada. All these are exciting things for me to do. Guess I'd better go practise!

Tuesday, May 17, 2011
7:30 p.m.
St. John's United Church
13 Spring St., Flesherton, ON
Suggested Donation: $5-$10

Wednesday, May 18, 2011
7:00 p.m.
Church of the Nazarene
347 Fairview Drive, Brantford, ON
Suggested Donation: $5-$10

"we feebly struggle..."

Please don't misunderstand, dear reader, I'm not feeling feeble today, nor am I having a day of struggles. The above is part of a line in the hymn, For All the Saints, one of my all-time favourite hymns. (One of about 500 or more, you understand!) Today, All Saints' day, I am thinking of my Dad. November 1st falls about mid-way between the date in October 1995 that he died and his birthday near the end of November.

There are many wonderful lines in this hymn, but I seem to choke up on this one, and more so as the years go on. The whole line is:

We feebly struggle, they in glory shine.

The Christian walk can be a struggle at times - maybe even all the time. We could be grappling with the right thing to do in a situation. We could be fighting against the pull of the world with its alluring glories, shortlived though they be. But those who have gone on ahead of us to glory have left those struggles behind forever. Wow!

So on this All Saints' Day let us remember those who, from all their labours, rest.

More Grace

Never doubt, dear reader, that God knows what it is we need before we ask. I began this day feeling rather overwhelmed with life's circumstances and wondering how I would cope with things coming up. This afternoon, my Mom phoned to see how I was, and to tell me that my aunt had woken up early - 4:30 a.m. early! - and had the overpowering urge to pray specifically for me. That was answer #1. After we finished on the phone I started straightening up the kitchen and put on a CD for company. One of the pieces in a medley struck home with a powerful hit. That was answer #2. The song is one my Mom often sang and the first line immediately came to mind:

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater.
Words by Annie Johnson Flint

The power of music and words together never ceases to amaze me! I am thanking God for this gift today.

My Journey of Faith

On June 6, 2010 I became an official member of St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church. I thought this would be a good place to share what I read to the congregation during that special service. The photo was taken while I was sharing my journey of faith.


"I am blessed to have been raised in a Christian home, with parents who lived out their faith every day. My Dad was a minister in the Church of the Nazarene, a small, evangelical denomination. During his 45+ years of ministry he served many congregations - some of them were church plants - and I recall occasions where the 6 of us, Mom, Dad, sisters, brother and I, were the only ones present for a service. I saw how God gave them strength to continue living a Christian life in spite of circumstances which might be discouraging.

"At age 8 I attended summer camp and accepted Christ as my Saviour. I realized my parents’ faith would not save me; I had to make my own decision. With God’s help, I have tried to keep that commitment. As a teenager, I asked the Holy Spirit to come to me, to sanctify – that is, make holy – my life for God’s service.

"I began playing for church at age 12 which was about the time my oldest sister left home for college. When I finished high school in Ontario, I came out to Winnipeg to attend Canadian Nazarene College to study church music. A few years later I met Gord in an adult Sunday School class; we were married and Wesley joined our family a year later.

"One day in early 1998, I received in the mail an appeal from the Music Committee of St. Andrew's. They were looking for an organist and, I presume, got my name from the Music Teachers' directory as an organ teacher who might have a student looking for a job. Such appeals had come to me before and I usually ignored them, but this time I felt prompted to respond. I would just take one step, I told myself, and see what happened.

"I called Susan, the contact given for St. Andrew's. That step led to us (the Keeley family) visiting for a morning worship service. It was Annual Meeting Sunday and while the rest of you were downstairs eating - I think it was chicken a la king - Susan and I were upstairs talking. I took the next step - meeting with the Music Committee, and the rest as they say, is history.

"I am so thankful to God for leading my family and me to the Presbyterian Church! St. Andrew's is my church home; you are family to me. I am blessed to be part of this fellowship."

We shall meet on that beautiful shore!

You will notice that it has been nearly 3 months since I blogged. It isn't that I haven't had ideas for posts, only that life has been happening and there hasn't been a surplus of energy for writing. I think I feel ready to 'put pen to paper' as it were, and share an experience from mid-March.

One of my choir members plays in the Mennonite Community Orchestra here in Winnipeg and invited me to attend the spring concert. We are fortunate to have the Canadian Mennonite University in our city, and the student choirs participated in the program. It was a blessing to me to hear the 4 different ensembles, as well as the orchestra, in performance. It reminded me of my own student days singing in Choral Society - Faure's Requiem, Haydn's Creation, etc.

The women's choir began their selections by singing a lovely arrangement of "In the Sweet By and By". I grew up singing this hymn (although not the way they sang it!) and at first I was caught up in remembering that.

There's a land that is fairer than day
and by faith we can see it afar;
For the Father waits over the way,
To prepare us a dwelling place there.

Then they came to the chorus:

In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore.
Words by S.F. Bennett

Emotionally, I 'lost it' then. Tears ran silently down my cheeks as I struggled for control. At that moment, my father-in-law was slowly failing in a hospital bed a thousand miles away. I guess that chorus became a far-off goodbye from me, in a way. A month earlier we had been there to visit, and I said to him then, "No matter what Dad, I'll see you again." His faith was strong; I have no doubt that God has welcomed him home.

This hymn will always carry a shadow with it now. In my childhood years, I sang it gleefully, knowing that heaven was that 'beautiful shore'. The glee has mellowed to ... what? Comfort tinged by sadness - happiness tempered by life perhaps. This experience has again reminded me of the power of music, and especially music and words together - unquestionably a topic for another post.

First time ever...

I was listening to some Chicago the other day. Now before you get all agitated about that being on a blog about hymns, take a deep breath! As I listened, I realized again the power of music to transport us in so many ways - time and emotion to name just two. Chicago takes me to my teens and twenties in a flash. Sometimes I even recall where I was when listening to that tune 'way back when.

There are a few hymns on a similar list - the list of "The first time I remember singing that hymn". Today I'm sharing one of those experiences with you, my reader. (I had to actually check back to see that I hadn't already written about this. I guess I just thought about writing it!) The first time I remember singing "Blest be the tie that binds" was at a family reunion in 1967, Canada's Centennial Year. I must have sung the hymn prior to that, but this occasion really sticks out in my mind. The reunion was my paternal grandfather's siblings and their descendants and until that day, I never knew how many Bull's there were! I don't recall the actual number of people attending, but to a 9 year old it seemed like an awful lot. As we were getting ready to go our separate ways, someone suggested we sing this hymn together. It could have been Dad I suppose but I don't know for sure. I know we sang at least one verse together - maybe more - and when I look back on it, I think that was pretty remarkable. What a blessing to share a hymn together at a family reunion!

Do you have a particular memory of the first time you sang hymn X? Please do share the memory with me.