Sunday's Song--El Shaddai

El Shaddai

El Shaddai, El Shaddai,

El Elyon na Adonai;
Age to age You're still the same

By the power of the name.
El Shaddai, El Shaddai,

Erkahmka na Adonai;
We will praise and lift You high

El Shaddai.

Through Your love and through the ram,
You saved the son of Abraham;
Through the power of Your hand,
Turned the sea into dry land.
To the outcast on her knees,
You were the God who really sees,
And by Your might, You set Your children free.

El Shaddai, El Shaddai,

El Elyon na Adonai;
Age to age You're still the same

By the power of the name.
El Shaddai, El Shaddai,

Erkahmka na Adonai;
We will praise and lift You high

El Shaddai.

Through the years You made it clear,
That the time of Christ was near,
Though the people couldn't see
What Messiah ought to be.
Though Your Word contained the plan,
They just could not understand
Your most awesome work was done
Through the frailty of Your Son.

El Shaddai, El Shaddai,

El Elyon na Adonai;
Age to age you're still the same

By the power of the name.
El Shaddai, El Shaddai,

Erkahmka na Adonai;
We will praise and lift you high

El Shaddai.

--Michael Card, John W. Thompson, 1982

Hebrew Translation:
El Shaddai=God Almighty
El Elyon=The Most High God
na Adonai=O Lord
Erkahmka=We will love you

Pumpkin Transportation

I don't ever remember raising pumpkins that actually survived to produce anything significant, but this year was different.  This is a picture of our remaining crop.  It's hard to believe that on just one vine, we had 12 bright orange gourds!  

We had a total of three vines, but none were purposely planted.  Last winter, I had thrown a rather large pumpkin out in the yard for the squirrels to consume, which they did.  When the vines started growing in the spring, we were pleasantly surprised!

One large pumpkin rot, two became food and shelter to presumably local rodents, and three smaller ones disappeared without a trace.

Yup, that's what I was doing--transporting five rather large pumpkins from the farthest point in our yard to our front door.  Now that's what I call VIP--Very Important Pumpkin--service!  --LKR

Sunday's Song

Grace Greater than Our Sin

Marvelous grace of our loving Lord,
Grace that exceeds our sin and our guilt!
Yonder on Calvary’s mount outpoured,
There where the blood of the Lamb was spilled.


Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin.

Sin and despair, like the sea waves cold,
Threaten the soul with infinite loss;
Grace that is greater, yes, grace untold,
Points to the refuge, the mighty cross.

Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin.

Dark is the stain that we cannot hide.
What can we do to wash it away?
Look! There is flowing a crimson tide,
Brighter than snow you may be today.

Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin.

Marvelous, infinite, matchless grace,
Freely bestowed on all who believe!
You that are longing to see His face,
Will you this moment His grace receive?

Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin.

--Julia H. Johnston, 1911

Sunday's Song--The Love of God

The Love of God

The love of God is greater far
Than tongue or pen can ever tell
It goes beyond the highest star
And reaches to the lowest hell.

The guilty pair, bowed down with care
God gave His Son to win
His erring child He reconciled
And pardoned from his sin.

Could we with ink the ocean fill
And were the skies of parchment made
Were every stalk on earth a quill
And every man a scribe by trade.

To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry
Nor could the scroll contain the whole
Though stretched from sky to sky.

O love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure
The saints' and angels' song.

--Frederick M. Lehman, 1917

Sunday's Song

Amazing Grace

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

When we've been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.
--John Newton

A Sunny Outlook

One thing for sure, I am grateful to be a soccer mom. Soccer mom's are "forced" to sit out in the sun, breathe in fresh air, and watch their kids play and have fun. We get to meet new people, so we get to socialize. Our children also get to hear us yell positive, encouraging words to them, their teammates, and even for the opposing team members that we have come to know over the years.

Sure, there are those days when it is raining, or cold and damp, but thank goodness for the vehicles we drive in over to the fields. They are relatively warm and dry, and in most cases, we can still watch our children's game, depending how close we parked to their field. And, when we can't, we can read a book, talk on our cell phones, or take an uninterrupted, well-deserved nap.

This afternoon, I was thrilled to be outdoors on such a sunny, warm fall day. We had frost, this morning, which annihilated my gardens, once full of cheerfully attired flowers. To say I needed a pick-me-up was an understatement. But basking in the sun under a beautifully blue sky while watching my son's game was just the thing to perk me up. Who cares if they lost? They had fun, and so did I! --LKR

Port Wine Stain Birthmark

When my oldest daughter showed me this incriminating mark on her arm two in a half years ago, I thought, "Who did this to her?!" She told me she had just noticed it, and had no recollection of even getting hit on the arm.

When it didn't go away after a couple of weeks, I assumed it was just a strange rash, or other equally weird or rare, harmless thing that my side of the family seems to be prone to. If nothing else, it was something rather striking to me, especially when it becomes a deeper purple that made my daughter even more unique and precious to me. Still, every doctor she saw, I asked. They all were baffled.

Finally, we saw a dermatologist. He instantly and confidently told us it was a type of port wine stain birthmark. These vascular birthmarks are normally very noticable at birth. Hers might have been very light, he told us, escaping detection--ironically including that of her very watchful pediatrician whom she saw as an infant who had a large port wine stain, herself!

We weren't worried, but it's good to finally know what it is! --LKR