HMMMNNN....

When I was a kid, I was fed garbage. Reams and reams of it. Page after page after page...

I just found a copy of the hymnbook I grew up with...

Global Warming...

I'm all for it!

It has been, by and large, a miserable winter here in Alberta. Last week it rained quite hard, even though it was -10 C. The ice on the van in the morning was at least 1/4 inch thick all over. I started the van with the remote starter and let it run for about half an hour, then went out to see if I could scrape the ice from the windshield yet. A large bubble had formed along the top of the window where it had warmed up, but it had not warmed enough to melt all the way thru the ice. I took my scraper and poked a hole in the ice at the bottom of the windshield, and water came spurting out. It was quite a fountain!

I saw a man on the CBC a few weeks ago, distressing over a large chunk of ice that had broken away from the north coast of Ellsmere Island, which is so far north my map of Canada doesn't even show it. He was quite insistent that the government needed to spend some money and make some laws NOW or it will be too late... Methinks he worships a false god. If God does great things in His world, like breaking ice and watching ninnies scream, we should be saying "Go, God!", not begging the idol in Ottawa to please put a stop to this.

Lately I have been...

I said when I created this blog that it would be useful, because I do have thoughts occasionally, and I should put them down somewhere. This past month must have been pretty blissful... no thoughts at all to speak of.

Well, not quite true. I have been watching the various discussions about the so called "Federal Vision" controversy, and have come to the conclusion that Rich Bledsoe was right; the more serious the sin a man is involved in, the less likely it is that he will be able to see it. There are a number of accusers of the brethren busy as bees in places like the Warfield list, and they seem quite oblivious to the fact that they look just like the devil in their pathological hatred of the godly. And these men are all ministers, tithing from their spice rack and neglecting the weightier matters of the law...

I have been re-reading "Against Christianity", by Peter Leithart. Good stuff!

Old folks home

I no longer have a young family. I added them all up yesterday and they were 71 years old. My kids are older than I am, and older than my wife is, but they are not as old as we are.

And people used to comment on what a large family I had... I would tell them I had a small family, only two of us over five feet tall. But no longer. Now I have a large and growing family. Timbrel and Zion are dead even in height, and Judah is a bit ahead of both.

I hereby predict;

Jewel will be the tallest girl in my house, except for perhaps her mother.

I have said this for years, and it will still be years before I can be proven wrong, so I feel safe continuing to say it.

There's a Blizzard in my Gizzard...

Two days ago nothing could be seen of Grande Prairie. There was so much blowing snow in the air we couldn't see across the street. Yesterday we dug out the van... the winds had blown all the snow from the west end of my driveway into the east end where the big van is parked, and the drifts were pretty spectacular. They were about half as high as the van, and carved sharply down and under the van when they were about a foot from each wall.

The temperature dropped to the -30C range after the storm, just in time to shovel out the driveway. But where to put it all? It was already up to the top of the fence on the neighbor's side. So I started the van, dug the drift away from it on one side, and with a good deal of forceful driving managed to move it out to the bare patch which the Lord had swept. Then I got an old bi-fold door out of the garage and laid it out on the deep snow on my back lawn, and we used it for a ramp when we sledded all the snow off the driveway. Now my back yard is up to my neck in snow in some places, only up to my waist in others.

The car in the front yard was drifted right over the hood, the minivan was swept clean on all sides. The driven pile of snow beyond the end of the driveway had to be negotiated with speed several times before we felt that we could safely back into the driveway.

And I still feel that blizzard in my gizzard...

Descriptive powers

It began to drizzle rain and he turned on the windshield wipers; they made a great clatter like two idiots clapping in church. Wise Blood by Flannery O'Connor

He had worked on the box a long time and when he finished it, he had scratched on the lid, MASON TARWATER, WITH GOD, and had climbed into it where it stood on the back porch, and had lain there for some time, nothing showing but his stomach which rose over the top like over-leavened bread. The Violent Bear It Away by Flannery O'Connor

This lady's descriptive powers have me rolling on the floor every couple of pages. What a writer!

They're at it again...

We have the studio booked for recording the next kids album from Feb.26-Mar.10. It will be called "Fun And Prophets", and will be a look at the prophets in the Bible.

Imagine, if you will, looking out your picture window into the city square. You see there a man with long hair rustled by the wind; he seems to be listening to something. As you look on, he takes a long, sharp sword from the scabbard at his side and begins to cut off his hair. All of it. And he is very careful to catch all this hair and gather up what has fallen to the ground. When he is finished, he pulls a measuring scale from his cloak and carefully measures his hair, dividing it into three equal groups.

He takes one of the neatly gathered piles of hair and begins throwing it up into the wind, where it is blown every which way. Next, he takes a second pile of hair, holding it up in the air with one hand and drawing his sword with the other, then proceeding through the town, waves his sword at the hair like he intends to cut it to pieces...

And you think YOU have strange neighbors... meet Ezekiel.

Fun And Prophets deals in brief with Abraham, Moses, Baalam, Nathan, Micaiah, Elijah, Elisha, Jonah, and many more.

"Everything Is All Right"

I spoke with my mother yesterday at our Christmas gathering, and our conversation drifted to Dad, and how he would have enjoyed the evening. She told me an interesting thing about the day dad died in the accident in 2002. She had been driving home from town, and felt a sudden exhiliration, and a sense that things were really good now, and that everything would be all right. When she arrived at home ten minutes later, she found dad under the Bobcat, having died a few minutes before.

She did not remember that feeling until she heard my sister-in-law Cathie's story about the morning my brother Grant died of cancer. Cathie had been out in the yard doing some work when she also felt a great sense of exhiliration, that Grant was going to be OK, that he was going to be healed, that everything was going to be all right. Grant was in a room on the sunny side of the house, and had asked that morning if someone could move the ladder that was blocking the window so that he could see the trees outside. Now, Grant had not been able to see across the room without his glasses for as long as I knew him, but he seemed to have his sight that day, and Cathie felt really comforted. When she went back into the house she found that he had died a short while before, and she connected it to the time she felt the uplifting moment.

This set Mom to thinking, and she remembered something very similar.

The sense that "everything is all right" is certainly true in both cases; both Dad and Grant were irrevocably healed at that moment.

Is this a common thing?

Fast, but not fast enough

We measured the heights of the children on the wall today. Timbrel has been the reigning champion of tall for, well, forever. Zion has been catching her rapidly this year, and is now less than a half inch behind... Not fast enough to keep from being passed by a younger sibling, however. Judah is in the midst of rocketing upward, and he should end Timbrel's long reign by Christmas this year. Merry Christmas, Judah!

Zion is the first in our house to be passed by a younger sibling. Our stair-steps are breaking up...

Cool Van

I drive a Ford E350 XL Super duty van, when everyone comes along. It currently has a glacier on top, courtesy of the last months snowstorms. The ice is probably 4 or 5 inches thick up on top where I can't reach it.

It was -30 this morning, and I had not started it for a couple days, so it complained a little but then it revved right up.

I love my van.

Bible Who-Am-I #4

I am a man who was stepped on, and stepped on, and stepped on, until I went to hell. Who am I?

courtesy of Judah Soles

Bible Associations #1

Where in the Bible is resurrection associated with vomit?

Yummy

Tonight we are having a group of flightless, omniverous bipeds for supper... It should be delightful.

At the table, but not in the door

I think it is safe to say that most of the churches in our area make no connection whatsoever between baptism and the Lord's Supper. It also seems to be believed that neither baptism or the Lord's Supper actually accomplish anything.

I grew up in the Evangelical Free church, and I was a participant at the Lord's table for several years before I was baptised. I don't think I was harmed by this in any way, but it does now seem strange to me that we did things this way.

"As many of you as have been baptised into Christ have put on Christ." Baptism is "putting on Christ". This is entry language. Baptism is the door into Christ and all His benefits. And one of His benefits is surely that He feeds us at His table.

If we look at the way it was in the old covenant, it seems to me that participation at the Passover (for instance) was not allowed for those who were uncircumcised. You had to have God's mark of ownership on you before you could partake. There are connections made in the new covenant between baptism and circumcision, in that they are both entry rituals into God's church.

If baptism is an entry ritual into the church,which it seems to be, then how does one get to the table before they get in the door?

The only way I can think of to make this work is to make baptism mean nothing, or to make it mean some response to God on MY part rather than His work on my behalf, neither of which I am willing to do. I think that evangelicals should be baptising their children much younger than they do, and then allowing them to the Lord's table.

Dark stuff and children's music

I have found that there are some folks, particularly of the evangelical sort, who register their objections to my music on these grounds; that children should not be confronted with evil and darkness until they are old enough to understand it. They themselves are quite content to go where the Bible Story Book leads them, through sanitized versions of anything dark in the Bible, and altogether leaving out a whole bunch of stories which seem to be deemed unredeemable. How do you tell a kid about the story of Ehud and the fat Eglon without getting into potty language? How do you tell about Jael and Sisera without bringing up a whole strain of subjects that I'd rather not have to talk to my kid about just now, thanks!

It is a good thing to protect your children from evil influences, it is a bad thing if any part of the Bible is included in ones understanding of "evil influences".

I was reflecting on this reluctance of ours awhile back when I thought of the story of Samuel as a boy. You remember it...

"Samuel! Samuel!"

Samuel runs to Eli, "Here I am, for you called me!"

"I didn't call you, go back to bed".

...and so forth, until Eli realizes that God is talking to Samuel, and instructs him how to respond the next time the Lord should call. Samuel does so, and the Lord speaks to Samuel. Do you recall what God told him?

I'm going to bring disaster on Eli; his sons will die before he does, none of his descendants will live to be an old man, they will be cut off from the priesthood, they will be sickly, etc.

Now, we can only guess at how old Samuel was at this point, but he was certainly a pre-teen, and God did not think it out of place to fill this boy's ears with a message that would make the ears of everyone who heard it to tingle. It wasn't uplifting; in fact, it made Samuel quite afraid to tell what he had been told.

I think that we need a whole army of songwriters for kids who would take this piece of knowledge to heart. There are a thousand Bible stories, and a multitude of ways to approach each one, and they are full of murder and lust and fear and threat and conquest and lies, all of which need to be set forth faithfully, with appropriate music, so that kids will grow up hearing the Bible's actual story. They need to be taught the whole counsel of God, not the Reader's Digest version.

It seems to me that it is almost always the case that if you miss the dark parts in your telling of the Story, you miss the point of the Story. Veggie Tales may be entertaining, but if you are expecting them to give your kids an understanding of God's Story you expect in vain.

So, some of my songs are dark... but I have a good model to follow. Thank you Lord, for what You told Samuel!

The way home...

was not for the faint of heart.

We left Seattle at 1:42 PM Friday, with the intention of driving straight through to Grande Prairie, expecting to arrive at about 5 AM Saturday. All went swimmingly until we turned onto highway 40 just outside of Hinton at just before 1 AM. The snow began to fall, growing heavier with every mile. We were soon reduced to moving at about 50 KMH max. The road disappeared entirely under a white blanket, broken only by the tracks of trucks that had preceded us by a few minutes. We eventually caught up to most of these, even at our slow pace, since they were in the ditches on either side of the highway. The snow was very wet, heavy, and slippery; and Tim's car had left whatever tread used to be on the tires on roads far and wide. Thus we began to notice our difficulty climbing hills, which proved too great to overcome a while later.

Just after 3 AM, in snow about a foot deep, we arrived at the bottom of the hill below the town of Grand Cache, Alberta. We made four attempts at trying to climb that hill, getting as good a run at it as we could under those circumstances, but each time we stopped before we reached halfway. Every time we stopped, we got stuck. The car just couldn't get a grip, and neither could we when we got out to push. We turned the car around by pushing it, and eventually found our way to a stop on a roadside at the bottom of the hill. About 20 minutes passed when a 4 wheel drive truck arrived, some sort of guardian angel for lost and stuck sheep. He hooked a tow rope onto us and pulled us up the hill into Grand Cache, where we noted the barricade in the other lane saying "Road Closed"... It was 5:30 AM.

We were set free by the truck at the top of the hill, but not by the streets. Every time we stopped we got stuck. Get out and push, hop into the slowly moving car, drive to the next stop sign, get out and push, jump in the car... We went looking for a place to park, since we heard that the road from Grand Cache to Grande Prairie was closed as well, but it is hard to find a place anywhere off the beaten path when there is more than a foot of wet snow on the ground. We eventually found a place on a roadside behind a big truck. Tim and I got out and went to find some breakfast at an open restaraunt at about 7AM, while Leo stayed in the car to catch a few zzz's.

When we came out the car had moved deeper into the snowbank. Leo told us that he had been awakened by the car lurching, and had discovered that the big truck behind which we had parked was backing up and he didn't see us... Amazingly, no damage was done to the car. I guess the ground was so slippery that it moved quite easily...

We then pushed our way out of this ditch with the help of several other folk who saw our predicament, and drove up to the gas station to fill up. We pushed the car away from there and pulled up in the deep snow in a parking place in front of the gas station. The snow was still falling heavily. We turned the radio on to listen for road reports and hunkered down to get a bit of uncomfortable sleep. It was probably about 9:30AM.

We had been told that they were not expecting to open the road to Grande Prairie until about 6 that evening, so we were suprised when Leo got off his phone and said that the RCMP were declaring that the road was open just after noon. So we hit the road again, about 110 miles south of Grande Prairie. I phoned Val as we left Grand Cache and told her that we were coming and asked her to pray for our safety.

The road was clean enough to go 60KMH for about 6 or 7 miles, then it began to get narrower and narrower. Our path was fairly clear and getting clearer as we drove; we soon found ourselves behind the snowplow. This slowed progress, but we were happy to be making progress. We followed him for several miles, until he turned aside into a roadside turnout. When we went around him we were at the top of a long gentle hill, so we manged to make some headway for awhile, but when the road began to climb we slowed to a stop in a hurry. We were high-centered on the ridge of snow between our wheels.

With some more help from other motorists we got turned around and went back to find our snowplow... We got in behind him and stayed there for about an hour, until he had reached the end of his loop. The road, at that point, had been plowed probably a couple of hours before, and was passable, but with a few inches on top. We were able to travel at a reasonable speed, or so it seemed to us, until we started slipping from side to side, doing a complete 180, and slamming into a snowbank while going down one hill. We backed up traffic in both directions for awhile, until somebody with a tow rope and a hook came along to fish us out of the toolies...

We met another plow truck coming in our direction from the other way, and we managed to travel in his tracks for the remainder of the way, though not without a few near stops on some of the hills. Twice, Tim and I jumped out of the car when it was down to walking speed in order to push it up the hill, and the combined pushing help and absence of our weight in the car was sufficient for the car to make the top of the hill.

We arrived at home in Grande Prairie at about 5PM, only half a day late, exhausted, but home. Thank the Lord for our fine driver Leo, and our safe arrival!

CREC here we come!

Tim, Leo, and I got back Saturday from our meeting with the Anselm Presbytery of the Confederation of Reformed Evangelical Churches. We were seated there as a candidate church, with the possibility of becoming full voting members next year. We had an excellent time visiting and getting to know these brethren with whom we have so much in common. The service on Thursday night hosted by Eastside Evangelical Fellowship was a delight... It is a glorious thing to have a congregation dominated by mens voices singing like they mean it.

Quite an international flavour there, as well. There were two Russian churches and two Polish churches welcomed into membership, and one from Japan was welcomed last year. We will be a second church from Canada, Lord willing. There was also a delegation from Tasmania there, scoping it all out.

Altogether very worthwhile.

Marching

Marching has been nominated by the Canadian Gospel Music Association as a finalist for Kids Song of the Year. Here are the lyrics.

Marching

They are marching, marching, marching round the city
They are silent, silent, they do not make a sound
Only trumpets, trumpets, trumpets sound continually
And pounding, pounding feet upon the ground
They are marching, marching, marching round the city
They are silent, silent, they do not make a sound
Only trumpets, trumpets, trumpets sound continually
And pounding, pounding feet upon the ground

Hear the knocking, knocking, knocking of our knees together
Shaking, shaking, shaking like a leaf
For this marching, pounding doom is drawing near us
And we fear He’s bringing Jericho to grief

For this God has parted the waters of the sea
And He has brought His people through
No fording Jordan, there He did the same
And now they’ve all come into view…

They are marching, marching, marching round the city
They are silent, silent, they do not make a sound
Only trumpets, trumpets, trumpets sound continually
And pounding, pounding feet upon the ground

Hear the knocking, knocking, knocking of our knees together
Shaking, shaking, shaking like a leaf
For this marching, pounding doom is drawing near us
And we fear He’s bringing Jericho to grief

For this God has parted the waters of the sea
And He has brought His people through
No fording Jordan, there He did the same
And now they’ve all come into view…
But I heard He promised, you would be saved!
Rahab, is it true? I’m glad I’m with you.

St Annes Pub

Hi, folks!

I would like to draw your attention to the latest issue from New St. Annes Pub, on fatherhood. http://www.stannespub.com/ There is much good stuff in here, along with an interview of yours truly. I think it is well worth your time.

Blessings!

Jamie Soles
www.solmusic.ca

Songs for Fun and Prophet

Here are the lyrics to a song I have been building for a new kids album.

Micaiah (1Kgs.22)

All the words of the prophets here are favourable to the King;
Let yours be the same, Micaiah.
They pronounce his victory, in triumph now they sing
Let yours do the same, Micaiah.
King Ahab doesn’t like you much
I wonder why he calls you…
Only speak the truth untouched by any evil thoughts, Micaiah

There they are before the gates, the prophets prophesying
See the horns Zedekiah made of iron; are they lying?
Here the prophets of the land all stand in one accord
Victory to Israel’s king is given by the Lord, Micaiah

And now if you should say
The king will go away, not returning
Say the king should die;
Say the prophets lie, never learning
You will be in trouble…deep

If you have a hankering to live on bread and water
Till the king comes home again in safety from the slaughter
Speak the word he does not like;
Tell him he will fail;
Should the prophets all be wrong
You’ll still be in my jail, Micaiah.

All the words of the prophets here are favourable to the King;
Let yours be the same, Micaiah.


@Sept.29/2006 Jamie Soles