“The Lord will save me, and we will play my music on stringed instruments all the days of our lives, at the house of the Lord.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭38:20‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Oh lalee oh Lalee, oh ukulele

Fear not the moth or rust!

Instead, Sit still in quiet trust.

Oh lalee oh lalee oh ukelalee

Play softly loud your wooden frame.

Tune strings of Grace to Jesus name.

My master and friend once touched my strings

He loved my sound , it made him sing

He kept me , he held me , he let my notes play

Til I was left in a closet when He was taken away

And silence sang this simple song :

Oh lalee oh Lalee, oh ukulele

Fear not the moth or rust

Instead Sit still in quiet trust

Oh lalee oh lalee oh ukelalee

Play softly loud your still wooden frame

Tune strings of Grace to Jesus name.

Sainted in wanting to play the Fathers tune

my Strings vibrated at sunrise but despaired still by noon.

No hand from above or below or between

Would lift this small frame to be heard or be seen

For only dry wood and dust and a small voice would say

Oh Lalee ,oh Lalee, oh ukulele

Fear not the moth or rust

Instead Sit still in quiet trust

Oh lalee oh lalee oh ukelalee

Play softly loud your still wooden frame

Tune strings of Grace to Jesus name.

but Suddenly sound was loud in the dark of night

When the door swung open and my frame felt light

A smaller hand than my masters but still tender and true

Lifted my neck and base past boxes clothes and shoe

She carried me happily as she softly sang

Ah lalee my Lord’s ukulele

I Fear not the moth or rust

Instead We will together play in quiet trust

Oh lalee oh lalee oh ukelalee

Play softly loud your live wooden frame

Lets Tune our strings to The Grace we have in Jesus name.

She then took me to the Father by the Spirits Hand.

And there we found a song in Jesus, not by law or command.

But, where instruments are perfect before His Radiant face.

And girls and ukuleles forever sing of songs only made by grace .


Note : dedicated to Destiny Wade. Destiny took the ukulele of her deceased uncle Geno, shook off the dust of death and despair ,and wrote a song . Her song was based on all she had learned  in bible study on Galatians. This way of life is what we are all called to …In this way we are “instrumental “ in His Hand. Jesus has called life and beauty and song out of us ! It is our song back to Him from Him as it comes from Grace ! We are all His instruments ….but as always , though we hear the word , it takes a child to demonstrate truth. Thankyou little sister Destiny… Keep in His Freedom and Grace as you always look to His Face!

Advent #3

Advent # 3

Isaiah 11

When YOU COME with your smarts oh brother To cover all this town

I won’t have to Wonder bout all the grown ups who look at me and frown

When YOU COME back to get me right here in the field and in the park

I won’t need no plows or laterns cause Ill never be digging in the dark

When YOU COME to get me you’ll find me with the kids dressed up and waiting

we will be Playing with lions and lambs all who ain’t wastin time hating

When YOU COME oh brother Jesus with all of your knowledge and smarts

Daddy’s glory will show like He wanted all along from The very start !

Advocate: Before the Throne of God above

Children love to sing.  At times you hear them in bathtubs and backseats, closets and corners, stairs and  swings singing with with all of grace and gusto, When we see them, we anticipate joyful noise as their tiny chests fill with air. Like birds on a perch in the morn, they are ready to bring beauty to air.

??????????? Songs that capture their hearts they learn well, Every word holds the attention  of their mind and mouth so they articulate with pride. No matter how shy the child’s spirit, when they hold a song close in their heart  they eventually long to sing it to their Mother or Father.”Daddy, let me sing to you” they say. God created them this way.

This Sunday, Pastor did not preach because we had a special guest. But, during worship, he taught much of worship.  He talked about getting before our “Daddy” (God the Father) and praising him.  He spoke of praising Him everywhere, in car, in kitchen, in work ,in field.  Song upon song was played as he led our souls into the audience  of this great “Daddy”. It was a beautiful picture to see the church filled with true “children of God” singing to Daddy. Indeed, It is by Daddy’s design and, our inheritance from Him ,that our souls can dance before Him.

 Though it be ever so natural for a child of the Daddy to sing,  it was bought with a very great price . Children in old earthly tents often forget the price and can no longer sing.  Our speaker, a young man set free into this inheritance of song, reminded us of the price God paid in His son, Jesus. As he recounted youth wasted apart from “Daddy”, year upon year forgetting the price, mute without song, the church remembered “we were all dead in trespasses and sins in which we once walked” (Ephesians 2:1). We waited in anticipation to hear “BUT GOD. .” When the time was right, the young man from jail and  possibly facing prison declared in tears “nothing matters but Jesus”. This is the heart of a worshiping child of the Daddy. A heart softened , “circumcised” to sing  from old earthly tent and ready to perfectly sing in heaven.   Oh how many of us has He , the perfecter of our faith, made sing!! “But God rich in mercy. .. (Ephesians 2 )  makes a worshiper out of an enemy.

Worshipers like folks in  the church ,like me, like the  the young man and like a woman named Charitie, who wrote the song we sang on Sunday.  Charitie Lee Cheney  (1841-1869) wrote a poem called “The Advocate” . It was later developed into a hymn named ” Before the Throne of God Above.” What makes this song most unusual is that it was written with each stanza pointing to a declared promise in the Word.  Promises only made available to us by our “Advocate” Jesus. A child of God cannot help but rejoice in singing this song.  It is the testimony of every believer: slave, prisoner, homeless or free. Here we sing to Daddy what He first sang to us.

The “Advocate”

Before the throne of God above , I have a strong and perfect plea (Heb. 4:15-16) A Great High Priest whose Name is Love (Heb 4:14) Who ever lives and pleads for me (Heb 7:25) My name is graven on His hands, (Isa 49:16), My name is written on His heart.  I know that while in Heaven He stands no tongue can bid me thence depart. (Rom 8:34). When satan temts me to despair (Luke 22:31-32) And tells me of the guilt within, Upward I look and see Him there (Acts 7:55-56) Who made an end of all my sin (Col 2:13-14)  Because the sinless Savior died, My sinful soul is counted free.  For God the just is satisfied to look on Him and pardon me(Rom 3:24-26). Behold Him there the risen Lamb (Rev 5:6) , My perfect spotless righteousness, (1Cor 1:30; 1 Peter1:18-19) the great unchangeable I AM , (Heb 13:8, John 8:58) The King of glory and of grace, One with Himself I cannot die. My soul is purchased by His blood, (Acts 20:28). My life is hid with Christ on high, (Col 3:3) With Christ my Savior and my God! (Tit 2:13) 




The Wanderer

God sends His children in the field to invite other children to come through the gate. We are children crying out to the old and broken “here, here is the Shepherd. Fall into His arms! He will carry you through the gate.


Mr. R is a friend . He is a delightfully brilliant friend. He is a tall lanky elderly man . He tells many tales of his travels and his investigations as a lawyer. Spry and savvy in his 80’s , his conversations are sharp and roll from one adventure to another. They roll without pause as if he had eternity to tell them. He waits patiently for ears to hear him. He lives like he knows about eternity . He likes the thought of it but has not glimpsed it . He reminds me of a child who has read about eclipses but never seen one.

He knows me as a “good christian woman”. No matter how often I tell him there is no one good, “No Mr R, ,no not one is good.” , He calls me by the same title. I have grown to accept that He may have a miraculous glimpse of Jesus when he sees “good”. Though that be true, and all the evidence of heaven would show that we are drawn to the goodness of God that we see manifest in the believer, this lawyer would go against such evidence. He would prefer to give credit to me.

“The Jews say this. . . and the Muslims say this. . . and you Christians say this. . .”

But what do you say Mr. R.?

“I say. . . well I say I am a ‘free thinker and a wanderer”

Is that so dear Mr. R. Where are you wandering to?

He laughs

‘Think freely about that my friend ” I say.

Well. . .. Mr R proceeds to relate stories of the past when beatniks set both tone and cadence for the thinkers and the wanderers.

Last week, Mr. R” wandered” via ambulance into the hospital where I work. He called it “chance” that I saw his name. I called it “divine”. My visit to his room he welcomed. Though ill, he continued to speak of details of his condition with great knowledge and eloquence.

Mr R. likes prayer. He likes to hear things I say to God and then interrupt my speaking . He usually asks “Is that so?” when I pray a declaration about the character of God. So, I asked on this day “Mr. R can I pray for you before you go to surgery?”

“if you would like to” Mr R stated.

“I would ” I said . Christians often pray for unbelievers and “wanderers”. We usually do it behind their back in secret places. God used Mr. R. to teach me to be unashamed to pray to God in the presence of all.

” I would like to call on the God who rules over all things. . . all things like surgeons and pacemakers and bleeding times”

“Well you can call on a guy like that for me”

“I will”. I proceeded to pray ready for Mr. R’s predictable interuption

“I don’t mean to interrupt but lets say this God exists. . . I don’t think He has much dealings with me because I don’t have much dealings with Him.”

My heart melted. I heard the cry of a man who did not know he was loved by God. I felt Jesus weep. “But Mr R. He is intimately concerned with you. He is considering everything about you. ”

“How do you know this? You cannot see this?”

“I can. It is Jesus. He is the image of the invisible God . The God who made every cell of your being . Lots of what we trust we do not see. . . ”

“I don’t think I will commit to any of that. That belief stuff. . . How bout you being here to visit that is enough” He looked up and smiled as if sending me off.

“Me visiting is not enough you know. ”

“it is for me” Mr R said.

Children want friends to come into the playground. They invite the ones they like and the ones Daddy says “invite” . But not all come. They know it costs much and that they don’t deserve to be invited.They do not see that He paid the price.

When these friends dont join us we often cry. I ran home to Daddy, Abba, Father. I cried and cried and asked if He would go get Mr. R. . I think “he will only come to your voice” I said. Speak louder Lord, For he is old and his ears are dull.

i prayed :”father remember his affliction and his wanderings , the wormwood and the gall!. . .. My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me .  And this I call to mind and therefore I have hope. . The steadfast Love of the Lord never ceases , His mercies never come to an end: they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.  “The Lord is my portion” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him”  For the Lord is good to those who wait for him , to the soul who seeks Him.  and It is good that I should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord for Mr R.” Lamentations 3:19-26. Amen.