Sunday's Hymn: Reader's Choice

Today’s hymn is Annette’s favorite. She writes that she loves this song and almost has it memorized. It is, she says, a “huge song of praise, and tells the story well too.”

One Day When Heaven
One day when heaven was filled with his praises,
One day when sin was as black as could be,
Jesus came forth to be born of a virgin—
Dwelt amongst men, my example is he!

Refrain
Living, he loved me; dying, he saved me;
Buried, he carried my sins far away;
Rising, he justified freely, for ever:
One day he’s coming—O, glorious day!

One day they led him up Calvary’s mountain,
One day they nailed him to die on the tree;
Suffering anguish, despised and rejected:
Bearing our sins, my Redeemer is he!

One day they left him alone in the garden,
One day he rested, from suffering free;
Angels came down o’er his tomb to keep vigil;
Hope of the hopeless, my Saviour is he!

One day the grave could conceal him no longer,
One day the stone rolled away from the door;
Then he arose, over death he had conquered;
Now is ascended, my Lord evermore!

One day the trumpet will sound for his coming,
One day the skies with his glories will shine;
Wonderful day, my beloved ones bringing;
Glorious Saviour, this Jesus is mine!

—-L. Wilbur Chapman

Other hymns, worship songs, etc. posted today:

• Grace Greater Than Our Sin at Pilgrim’s Scribblings
  
• In Christ Alone at Above the Clouds
• O Jesus, When I Think of Thee at joythruChrist
• The Collect for the Thirteenth Sunday After Trinity at Magic Statistics
• Never Give Up at The Happy Wonderer
• Near the Cross at Thoughts from the Teahouse
  
• Lord’s Day 35, 2007 at The Thirsty Theologian
• Tell Me the Story of Jesus at Seasonings of the Heart
• Update: Draw Me Nearer at Lux Venit
  

Have you posted a hymn this Sunday and I missed it? Let me know by leaving a link in the comments or by emailing me at the address in the sidebar and I’ll add your post to the list. If you’d like to see your favorite hymn featured as a Reader’s Choice hymn, go here and leave a comment. Just tell me your favorite hymn and a little bit about why you like it and I’ll feature your hymn when your turn comes. But you’d better do it soon, because we’re coming to an end of the list of the already suggested favorite hymns!

Saturday's Old Photo

Darlene is begging for an old photo so she doesn’t have to look at my jars of peaches anymore, and since she says she’d send me some heat from her place if she could (I’ve moved my tomato plants in tonight because it may frost here, so you know I need it.), I guess I’ll oblige her. This is a photo of my husband when he was in the U.S. Army. This picture is taken in Germany, but he was also in Viet Nam.

Whenever anyone in the family would ask him about Viet Nam, he’d say there was really nothing to tell. He was just a company clerk, he’s say, and there was nothing very exciting about that. 

 

After he passed away, the subject of Long Range Reconnaissance Patrols came up in youngest son’s social studies class, and the teacher mentioned that youngest son’s dad had been a LLRP. It was news to us, and frankly, I didn’t know whether to believe it or not. Mr. Sullivan, youngest son’s teacher, was my husband’s friend, and he’d grown up as a U.S. military brat, so they had talked about the military a lot, and there was a possibility Keith had told him more than he’d ever told us. But then again, I figured Mr. Sullivan could have mixed him up with someone else, since Keith had never hinted of it to me or anyone else in the family.

 

When oldest daughter moved home this summer, we went through a few of her dad’s things. In his trunk we found his tiny brown metal military can opener, and she put it on a chain and began wearing it around her neck. One day at work, a couple of old Alaskan military men stopped in for lunch.

 

“Hey,” one of them said, “is that a military can opener you’re wearing?” She explained that it had belonged to her dad, who’d served in Viet Nam.

 

“Was he a Lurp?” he asked. Something about the can opener made him think her dad might have been a LLRP. Lurps would wear the can openers around their neck with their dog tags, all three things taped together, he said, so nothing jingled as they reconnoitered.

 

So perhaps it’s true: Keith was a LLRP and he chose to keep it to himself.

A Bumbleberry Post

Cranberries
Last evening the dog and I went on a cranberry scouting expedition. What did we find? The berries aren’t quite ripe yet, but there is a bumper crop this year—big berries and plentiful—like I haven’t seen since 1987.

And yes, I remember the exact year, because several years later I still had bags of cranberries in the freezer labeled, “Cranberries, September 1987.” Oldest daughter and her friend were ten years old, and for a couple of weeks in early September they’d disappear into the bush together whenever it could be arranged, and waddle home a couple of hours later, side by side, carrying a 5-gallon bucket of berries between them. (That was back in the days when reasonable parents still let their kiddies wander the bush unsupervised all afternoon as long as they were home for supper.)

Watermelon
All the watermelon I bought this year was disappointingly bland and flavourless and not very juicy. Even the big watermelon fans in the fam didn’t like it much, and I ended up throwing some away.  Do they even grow the slurpy, full-of-flavour, seeded melons like I grew up with anymore?

Peaches
I have been shamelessly admiring all the jars of canned peaches (and strawberry-rhubarb jam, too) lined up on a little table in the kitchen. What’s the point of slaving over the canner if you can’t admire your handiwork for a while before you store it away on a cool dark shelf in the basement?

I still plan to do a post on canning peaches, but it is taking longer than I expected to get it together. In case you are waiting for my instructions before canning peaches and your peaches are in danger of spoiling while you wait, let me recommend the book Putting Food By by Janet Greene. It is the very best resource there is on canning, preserving, freezing, drying, curing, smoking or cold storing food of all kinds—fruit, vegetable, or meat. If this book doesn’t have instructions for it, you don’t want to do it.