Make every effort to keep yourselves united in the Spirit, binding yourselves together with peace. For there is one body and one Spirit, just as you have been called to one glorious hope for the future. There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all, in all, and living through all. [Ephesians 4:3-6 (NLT)]
Back in 1765, Dr. John Fawcett became the pastor of a small church in Wainsgate, England. Although his congregation of farmers and shepherds paid him a modest salary and donated wool and potatoes to them, the growing Fawcett family struggled to make ends meet. When a prestigious London church extended a call to him, Fawcett accepted and preached his farewell sermon. The family’s belongings were loaded on their wagon when parishioners gathered around him and begged him to stay. When his wife cried, “Oh John, John, I cannot bear this,” the pastor agreed. He ordered the wagon unloaded and remained at that parish for 54 years. Tradition has it that Fawcett wrote the words to “Blest be the Tie” in commemoration of that day.
I thought of that old hymn as we packed up our car last month. Having sold our Colorado house, we were departing from our beloved mountain town. It has been our winter home for more than twenty-five years and we’ll miss the skiing and snowshoeing, the après ski fun, our revolving door of visiting friends and family, the bluebird skies and knee-deep powder, meeting people on the gondola, treks through the snowy woods, the winter carnival and torchlight parades, and the juxtaposition of cowboys, skiers, ranchers, snowboarders, tourists, locals, mountain bikers, fishermen, ski racers and rodeo riders that made our town so unique.
We shed no tears when bidding farewell to our house, skis, snowshoes, parkas and other gear. We did, however, shed tears at leaving our Colorado friends and the friendships that grew, not from a love of the mountains but from our mutual love of God. Caretakers we inherited from our home’s previous owner became our first town friends and their faith through the years was inspiring. A hairstylist with spiked purple hair guided us to friendships in a youth ministry and that SK8 church ministry led to even more friendships with people of faith. A sign on the bus led us to a church that offered much more than an opportunity to worship and hear the word of God—it offered fellowship and friendship with other believers and we became part of a family of followers. A friend introduced me to a women’s ministry which now connects me to twelve other Christian women writers. There is a tie that binds us all together that has nothing to do with snow reports, mountain conditions, or hiking trails—it has to do with our shared love of Jesus and faith in God.
Unlike Pastor Fawcett, we couldn’t change our minds and unload our car at the last minute. A new family has moved into our home and new memories will be made there. Unlike him, I’ve not written a hymn to commemorate our departure. I will, however, share his words and thank God for the tie of love that binds us together with our brothers and sisters in Christ.
Blest be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above. …
We share each other’s woes, Our mutual burdens bear;
And often for each other flows The sympathizing tear.
When we asunder part, It gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart, And hope to meet again. …
From sorrow, toil and pain, And sin, we shall be free,
And perfect love and friendship reign Through all eternity. [John Fawcett]
What makes us happy? Could it be a phone call from a good friend? Is it when we’ve made a profit in the stock market or received a large commission check? Are we pleased when our checkbook balances on the first attempt or when the accountant informs us that a large tax refund will be in the mail? Are we happy when someone sends us flowers or our child brings home a good report card? Does finding the ideal gift for our spouse’s birthday or receiving the perfect gift for ours give us happiness? Would we be happier if we could enjoy two weeks at a luxury resort or had a state-of-the-art home theatre or gourmet kitchen?
Upon receiving an invitation from a business acquaintance to a “Celebrate Life” picnic, my first response was “Who died?” The words “It is just for fun!” along with the promise of pony rides, moonwalk, magician and games seemed rather odd for a Celebration of Life. That this was the 19th such picnic further confused me. Fortunately, accompanying the invitation was a brief note explaining that nineteen years ago his son had overcome serious health issues and every year since his family has gathered with friends and family to celebrate. Rather than celebrating the life of someone who died, they were celebrating that he lived!
around me, myself and I: my toys, my games, my friends, my wants, my school, my plans. As I matured, I became a little less self-involved but I have to admit that my priorities still revolved around me: my education, my husband, my children, my family, my projects, my future! All of these are important, but no matter how much I love my husband, children and grandchildren, and no matter how worthwhile my projects or causes, none of these should be my first priority. That should always be God.
Jehovah Rapha, the “Lord who Heals You,” was the name of God proclaimed to the Israelites through Moses at Marah. Indeed, a God who could make the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers clean and raise Lazarus from the dead can heal any physical ailment.
Devotions of the Heart 