Unto Us a Son is Given

Given, not lent,
And not withdrawn - once sent,
This Infant of mankind, this One,
Is still the little welcome Son.

New every year,
New born and newly dear,
He comes with tidings and a song,
The ages long, the ages long;

Even as the cold
Keen winter grows not old,
As childhood is fresh, foreseen,
And spring in the familiar green.

Sudden as sweet
Come the expected feet.
All joy is young, and new all art,
And He, too, whom we have by heart.


by Alice Meynell,  1847-1922


Merry Christmas.  This year Christmas week was a bit different than most.  Most of our family got quite sick.  As I was sitting on the couch barely able to talk or think, I said in jest,  "Where is the Christmas cheer?"  Most Christmases we are busy cooking, caroling, and planning surprises for the children, but this year we were fixing flu tea and filling the vaporizers and reading to sick children.  So it was quite different this year, but it made me think about all those who are suffering while others are merrymaking. The answer to my question is from our Christmas play this year. "Christmas is not a time or a place."  I knew the answer when I asked it.  Rather, Christmas is a reality to be embraced, that God loves us so much that He became one of us and dwelt among us.  He came hidden as a little Babe, born in a cave.  He is gentle, and He gently calls us to Himself.  He invites us to be friends.  So we rejoice even when we are in various trials.

The Advent Kiss

Ever since Adam walked with God
     In the cool of the evening -
          Hand in hand perhaps;
Human hearts have yearned to know Him
     As that intimate friend -
          Holding them closely.

So He came again, not to walk,
     But to be held in our arms -
          Helpless and quiet;
Showing us the way to know Him
     by allowing our lips to
          Kiss the Face of God.


by Nathan Dunlap
2nd Sunday of Advent, Dec. 9, 2007


Note:  A few years ago my husband wrote this poem for a Christmas card of the Madonna and Child titled 'Kissing the Face of God'.  As I think on the Incarnation of God become man, one can only marvel at such Divine Love, becoming an infant born in poverty in a remote cave in Bethlehem.    

An Offering to Thee

So transform me, O Lord,
   That my life may be
   An offering to Thee,
As Christ has made
   An offering to me.

Work in me and make me whole;
Cleanse my heart, make pure my soul.

So transform me, O Lord,
   That my life may be
   An offering to Thee,
As Christ has made
   An offering to me.

Consecrate my cup inside;
With Thee, O Christ, I will abide.

So transform me, O Lord,
   That my life may be
   An offering to Thee,
As Christ has made
   An offering to me.

My death shall be as fire or ice;
Thy grace, Thy peace, Thy love will suffice.

So transform me, O Lord,
   That my life may be
   An offering to Thee,
As Christ has made
   An offering to me.

 Julie Dunlap  11-27-1012,  St. Augustine Cathedral

Thanksgiving Poems

Blessed Thanksgiving

Joy bell ringing

Banjo singing

Voices mingling

Noses tingling

Children swinging

Laughter lingering

Bringing thanks to God.

by Julie Dunlap,  11-25-2009

Pauper's Thanksgiving

Banker's loaning

Congress owning

Parents groaning

Children moaning

Grace atoning

by Nathan Dunlap,  11-25-2009

Note:  Three years ago my husband and I had a lot of fun thinking up these rhymes on Thanksgiving morning by candlelight.  At the time we were living in a rustic cabin at the edge of the woods.  Our bedroom had a picture window that looked out at treetops, since the cabin is built on a slope and our room was upstairs.  The moonlight shone brightly into our room as well.  I recall this particular morning laughing as we were thinking up these poems in the early hours.  There is so much to be thankful for in this life, and I am thankful for poetry and laughter, music and mountains, my husband and his faithfulness, children and family, and most of all I give thanks to God for His abundant grace and loving-kindness!!! I encourage you to thank God for all the good you know in this life, for all good gifts come from the Lord.

Beautiful Bride

Christ is the Head;

His Church is the bride.

As Christ is Glorious 

and full of Splendor,

So also His Church

will be Glorious,

a spotless bride.

He washes us with the Holy Waters of Baptism.

He nourishes us with His own Body and Blood,

Broken and spilled out in passionate love for His bride.

He ordains leaders: Bishops, Priests, and Deacons

to guide and be His representatives on earth.

He absolves our sins, wiping them clean, as we repent 

of our failures to do God's Holy Will. 

He confirms our faith by the work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts.

He blesses our marriage bonds of faithful love.

He ministers to us with compassion

when we are sick or dying.

Thank You, Lord, for Thy Passionate Love

demonstrated in the Incarnation of the Son of God made Son of Man.

Thank You, Lord, for Thy abundant, generous Grace

available to all who humbly accept our marred humanity,

and embrace Thy Divine Touch.

Thank You, Lord, for establishing and building 

Thy Holy Church -

Thy Beloved Bride.

by Julie Dunlap   10-2-2012

Note: Today is All Saints Day, a day to remember the glorious cloud of witnesses that have proceeded us to the heavenly realms.  I wrote down these thoughts after reading several sections from The King's Highway by George D. Carleton.  Christ's enduring and endearing love for His bride, His Holy Church, is hard to fathom, and it is with grateful hearts that we acknowledge this love.  He takes us as unworthy sinners, and by this ardent love  makes His own to be of worth.    

Autumn Days

Autumn days are here

With splendid colors arrayed!

Ah, the feel in the air

Of a beautiful autumn day!

Hear the merry laughter

Of children piling leaves,

And gaze across the fields

As farmers bring in the sheaves.

Bushels of apples are being picked

to be made into cider so sweet;

Or how about a delicious pie?

M-m-m, yummy, what a treat!

I love to hear the honking

Of geese on a nearby pond.

Yes, autumn is a happy time;

We'll cherish memories fond!

The basement shelves are filled

For all our winter supply.

So we;ll say 'welcome autumn',

And to summer we'll say 'good-bye'! 

                                                       

                                                       by Rachel Plank

                                                       October 19, 2011

Yours

Yours

Lord, with my arms wide open

And my hands stretched out

I'm putting my hope in You,

And giving You my all....

From here on out.

Where You send, I'll go,

From China to New York,

Whether with rich or poor,

My trust is forever in You.

If it's through simple prayers,

Or saving tiny orphan girls,

Even when people scoff and scorn,

I'll still be serving You.

When life brings storms,

Your name is still to be praised

Because I know Your promise, 

And there will be a rainbow in the end.

My life is in Your hands,

And You are in my life.

I serve through Your name

And I love with Your heart

Because I am Yours.

Oh, Lord, I am Yours forever.

by Sveta Dunlap    Sept., 2012

Note:  I am so thankful to see God at work in our daughter, and I thank Sveta for sharing her heart through this poem.  The ultimate goal of Christian parents is that our children will love and serve Christ throughout their lives so that they bring honor and glory to God Almighty. 

'Tis the Bottom Rung

'Tis the bottom rung
   Where grace abounds
   Agape love surrounds
   Thy people all around -
      This world of sorrows,
      This world of joys.
I trust in Thee, O Lord.
I gird Thy mighty sword.
I learn to live Thy holy Word.

'Tis the bottom rung
   Where faith declares
   Christ's love calls us to share
   Share Christ's love everywhere -
      This world of sorrows,
      This world of joys.
We trust in Thee, O Lord.
We gird Thy mighty sword.
We learn to live Thy holy Word.

by Julie Dunlap  8-19-2012

Note:  I have been reading E. Stanley Jones' book Christian Maturity from which I wrote this song and the following idea. It is Christ Jesus who comes to us at the bottom rung of the ladder and lifts us up as we trust in Him.  In all other religions, people strive to reach God in various ways by climbing up to the top of the ladder. Even Christians often try to climb the ladder up to God, yet it is when we humble ourselves that God's grace is poured out abundantly and we experience agape love.  Upon receiving God's agape love, we are filled with gratitude and overflowing with God's love to share with those whom we live with and those we meet upon life's trail.

Dean's Prayer

Dad’s Prayer:

My Lord and my God,

I desire always and am here only to do your will.

I am what you’ve made me.

Thank you for your love

and the love of everyone you’ve given me.

By your freely given grace alone do I function.

Teach me Love, Humility and Compassion.

Forgive me my abundant sins.

Help me overcome temptation and though I miss the mark,

guide me back, help me climb,

lift me up into the outstreched arms of your supreme sacrifice.

Know I am striving to rest forever in your love,

and grant that my striving is emough.

Amen.

(Dean White)

Note:  Dean  crossed over to glory land on September 1st, and is at last free from the pain of cancer he battled for two years.  It was such a pleasure to get to know Dean over the past five years.  He stayed at our home in 2007 for two weeks, helping insulate our new house and helping build our porch.  Since then we had some contact and saw him a few times when we were out West.  He was an example of love in action and word, and I am so thankful our paths crossed. I am thankful that his family shared this prayer that Dean wrote, and may it be the prayer of my heart also.

The Old Rugged Cross

On a hill far away stood an old rugged Cross,
The emblem of suff'ring and shame;
And I love that old Cross, where the dearest and best
For a world of lost sinners was slain.

So I'll cherish the old rugged Cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down.
I will cling to the old rugged Cross,
And exchange it someday for a crown.

Oh, the old rugged Cross, so despised by the world,
Has a wondrous attraction for me;
For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above
To bear it to dark Calvary.

So I'll cherish the old rugged Cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down.
I will cling to the old rugged Cross,
And exchange it someday for a crown.

In the old rugged Cross, stained with Blood so divine,
A wondrous beauty I see;
For t'was on that old Cross Jesus suffered and died
To pardon and sanctify me.

So I'll cherish the old rugged Cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down.
I will cling to the old rugged Cross,
And exchange it someday for a crown.

To the old rugged Cross I will ever be true.
Its shame and reproach gladly bear.
Then He'll call me someday to my home far away,
Where His glory forever I'll share.

So I'll cherish the old rugged Cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down.
I will cling to the old rugged Cross,
And exchange it someday for a crown.

By George Bernard, 1873-1958

What a powerful hymn!  I learned this hymn last month and find it hard to stop singing once I get started on it.  Christ Jesus embraced humiliation and pain on the Cross for the love God has for each one of us.  We are called to pick up our cross daily, whatever pain it may bring, for the sake of sharing Christ's love with the people in our lives. I suggest that you sing this song from start to finish, and see what effect it has on your spirit.  God's blessings upon all of you who take the time to read this poetry blog.

Fix My Mind

Fix my mind on Thee, O Lord;
Fix my thoughts upon Thy Word.

   Father all glorious, Father all true,
   Father, Thou bring me life anew.

Fix my mind on Thee, O Lord;
Fix my thoughts upon Thy Word.

   Jesus Christ, Thou art grace and light.
   Jesus Christ, lead me through the night.

Fix my mind on Thee, O Lord;
Fix my thoughts upon Thy Word.

   Holy Spirit, en-kindle my spirit.
   Holy Spirit, convict me today.

Fix my mind on Thee, O Lord;
Fix my thoughts upon Thy Word.

   Help me to glory in my weakness;
   Help me to carry my cross today.

I will fix my mind on Thee, O Lord;
I will fix my thoughts upon Thy Word.

by Julie Dunlap   7-6-2012

I wrote this prayer/song as I was dealing with accepting my weaknesses, and recalling the Apostle Paul's words that if he were to boast, he would rather boast in his weaknesses.  It is when we are weak, then we are strong because only when we acknowledge our weakness will we rely on Christ to be our strength.

All Things Bright and Beautiful

All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.

Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
God made their glowing colors,
God made their tiny wings.

The purple-headed mountain,
The river running by,
The sunset, and the morning
That brightens up the sky.

The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden,
God made them ev'ry one.

God gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell,
How great is God Almighty,
Who has made all things well.

All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.

by Cecil F. Alexander  1818-1895

My two youngest children and I were invited to go to the St. Louis zoo with a friend, and she taught us this song before we went with her to the zoo.  Our friend has two grand pianos, and she taught me this song so I was able to play along with her on the banjo.  Our tour of the St. Louis zoo was very memorable, the highlight being two elephants swimming and playing in the water.  These two elephants  kept dunking each other like little children at play.  The variety of  colors were spectacular, from bright pink flamingos to the crested cranes from East Africa, the striped zebras and okapis to the golden lion.  It was very fitting to sing this song before going to see so many of God's creatures and remember whose hand wrought such creativity.

Little Boy

Little boy, do you know?
Jesus loves you.
I love you too.
Your life is blessed with God's love,
Blessed with my love.
Know our love is true, for you.

Little girl, do you know?
Jesus loves you.
I love you too.
Your life is blessed with God's love,
Blessed with my love.
Know our love is true, for you.

Love springs from the Lord above;
Love springs from His throne.
He's gentle;
Yes, He's patient.
Yes, He's faithful and He's true.

Little boy, little girl,
I love you.

By Julie Dunlap    June 6, 2012

One morning I was singing this song for our son, Jonathan.  Children are my delight.  God has blessed us with many children throughout this journey of life.  Children bring with them enthusiasm and trust.  They are gifts from our loving Father in heaven.

Joy Surging

Holding Your hand I walk the Way,
You understand all I would say;
Holding Your hand I need not pray.
Lord, I belong here at Your side,
Singing Your song, swinging Your stride,
Joy surging with the strength of a tide.
Beside us each tree shines against the blue,
No need to see some distant view.
The future must be here, now, with You.

This poem was written by a wife of a missionary in China who suffered much.  I read it recently in a book by  E. Stanley Jones. He writes that joy is a mark of maturity in a Christian.  Joy is not dependent upon circumstances, rather upon our peace of heart and mind in Christ Jesus, our Lord.  He writes, " When you sing His song and swing His stride, then automatically joy surges with the strength of a tide." (Christian Maturity,   E. Stanley Jones, 1957)  This is a worthy goal, and by God's grace He will wrought in us enduring joy.

You are King

Lord, I come to You.  Lord I come to You.
Lord, I come to You
Today, this day.
I acknowledge You, Jesus;
I acknowledge You as King over all the earth.

Lord, I praise Your name.  Lord, I praise Your name.
Lord, I praise Your name
Today, this day.
Holy is Your name, Jesus;
Holy is Your name - You're King over all the earth.

Lord, My soul gives thanks. Lord, My soul gives thanks.
Lord, My soul gives thanks
Today, this day.
Your love saves me today, Jesus;
Your loves saves me today - You're King over all the earth.

Lord, I worship You.  Lord, I worship You.
Lord, I worship You
Today, this day.
You are lifted up, Jesus;
You are lifted up - You're King over all the earth.

Lord, I honor You.  Lord, I honor You.
Lord, I honor You
Today, this day.
I will follow You, Jesus;
I will follow You - You're King over all the earth.

by Julie Dunlap   5-23-2012

I came up with another simple tune as I played around on the banjo, then put these words of praise to the King of Kings.  This has become my prayer as I am faced with my utter dependency on my Creator.

Snow in the Basement

I found below a layer of snow;
It is icy cold down there.
Where's our warm winter clothes?
Let's take our shovels down the stairs.

Grab a coat and come to see -
Eighteen snowy inches cloak the floor.
It's summer so how can this be,
That our basement wintered heretofore.

Will you help me dig about?
Come, let's shovel side by side.
This frozenness I must move out
Lest ice expand and winter doth preside.

Each of us has snow within -
A frozen factor we must root-out.
Dance and sing and laugh and love
While we shovel our basements out.

By Julie Dunlap   May 17, 2012

This poem seems like a Dr. Seuss children's poem, and the thought originated from a vivid dream I had right before I awoke one morning.  I jotted down the thought right away lest I forget the idea.  Putting the idea down poetically was challenging in order to incorporate rhythm and rhyme.  I had to get out a rhyming dictionary, a thesaurus, and a college dictionary, and then my helpful editor (my husband) gave me needed critique so I had to reword much of what I had written. It took three days to get from the rough idea to the poem.  It will take longer to get the snow out of the basement, but as we place our trust in God's abiding love, we can have fun as we shovel out the snow.

Not My Will

Not my will but Thine, O Lord,
Not my will but Thine, O Lord,
Not my will but Thine, O Lord,
I choose You.

Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer,
My strong Tower;
You're my Refuge I will cling to.
I choose you.

by Julie Dunlap  May 5, 2012

Transformation

Roaring waters swirl and engulf my home.
   Once an array of distinct colors
   Formed an uplifting
   Rainbow of promise.
A whirlwind struck at night
   Destroying all order
   Creating a conglomeration of mud -
   Thick, pasty, tasteless mud.

I am brought down to sense
   The minuteness of mankind.
For God formed Adam from dust
   And Eve from Adam's rib.
Yet, God made man in His Image.
   We are called to glorify His Name.

Open the shades which close us in darkness.
   Let the Son shine within;
   Let him mold us with His gentle hands;
   Let Him breathe color into our souls.

Turning our gaze outward
   We will see a multitude of rainbows
   Surmounting the surrounding clouds.

As soon as we open our hearts to our Creator,
He shines His Light upon our souls,
   Transforming slimy worms
   Scurrying through depths of mud
                       to
   Fragile butterflies fluttering
   Among meadows of wildflowers
   Scattered upon rugged mountain slopes.

by Julie St. John   l987
    

In His Arms

If a wren can cling to a spray aswing,
In a mad May wind and sing and sing
     As if he'd burst for joy,

Why cannot I, contented, lie
In His quiet arms, beneath His sky,
     Unmoved by earth's annoy?

Author unknown

A Better Resurrection

I have no wit, no words, no tears;
   My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or tears;
   Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
   No everlasting hills I see;
My life is in the falling leaf
   O Jesus, quicken me.

My life is like a faded leaf,
   My harvest dwindled to a husk;
Truly my life is void and brief
   And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
   No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall -- the sap of Spring;
   O Jesus, rise in me.

My life is like a broken bowl,
   A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
   Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perished thing,
   Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for him my King:
   O Jesus, drink of me.

by Christina Rossetti   1830-1894

Free to Be

There came a time, I felt a longing
   To be free;  free to be,
   To be a limb on the Tree of Life
      That would reach out and offer fruit
      To nourish the poor
          So they, too, would be free,
             Free to be.

I searched here and there,
   From mountain tops to chapel pews.
      Peace was nowhere.
   Even the sweet air of the South Pacific
      Held the stale quality
         Of freedom withheld.
   I came home in despair.

In my search for freedom, I came upon
   A layer of fog;
   A blanket of doubt
      Lay on top my labyrinth within -
         A mouse in a maze
            Trapped!

It soon became clear, I was the capture
   Who held myself prisoner all these tear-filled years.
In order to grow, I had to let go -
   To open my deadly grip,
   To surrender all my pride and shame,
   To hang in His loving arms.
I found freedom in His pain.

by Julie St. John   December, 1986

Today is Good Friday,  the day we remember the crucifixion of our Lord and King.  It is a good day because Jesus demonstrated His deep and lasting love for us.  Only in Christ will we find the freedom and peace we long for along the path of life.

I Ask for Thy Grace

I ask for Thy grace,
    Thy all sufficient grace;
    Thy grace to help me -
    Strengthen me this day.

Come to me, Lord,
    I call Thee.
Come to me to stay.

I seek Thy holy face,
    Thy most majestic face;
    Thy holy face to lead me
    As I pray.

Come to me, Lord,
    I call Thee.
Come to me to stay.

I call Thy holy name,
    Thy most majestic name;
    Thy holy name above
    All other names.

Jesus, Jesus,
    I love You.
Jesus, come to stay.

I ask for Thy grace,
    Thy all sufficient grace;
    Thy grace to help me -
    Strengthen me this day.

By Julie Dunlap  3-17-2012

Here is another short song I came up with as I was picking out a tune on my banjo.  In my weakness, I realize a need for God's grace to strengthen me for the day. This song is a prayer for grace - God's unmerited kindness to help us when we call upon Him.
 

 

Stabat Mater

At the Cross her station keeping

Stood the mournful mother weeping,

Where he hung, the dying Lord.

For her soul of joy bereaved,

Bowed with anguish, deeply grieved,

Felt the sharp and piercing sword.

Who, on Christ's dear mother gazing,

Pierced by anguish so amazing,

Born of woman, would not weep?

Who on Christ's dear mother thinking

Such a cup of sorrow drinking,

Would not share her sorrows deep?

For his people's sins chastised,

She beheld her Son despised,

Scourged, and crowned with thorns entwined.

Saw him then from judgment taken,

And in death by all forsaken,

Till his spirit he resigned.

Jesus, may her deep devotion

Stir in me the same emotion,

Fount of love, Redeemer kind.

That my heart fresh ardor gaining,

And a purer love attaining,

May with Thee acceptance find.

True repentance, Jesus, win me:

Savior print thy wounds within me.

Brand them on my stubborn heart.

As Thou bought'st, through tribulation,

In thy passion, my salvation,

Let me bear therein my part.

Let me mourn, O Lord, beside Thee

For the sins which crucified Thee,

While my life remains in me.

Take beneath the cross my station.

And in all thy desolation.

So unite myself to Thee.

Jesus, great beyond all other,

Turn not from me, heav'nly brother,

Let me too bewail thy pain.

Let my soul, thy death declaring,

Thy unsparing passion sharing,

Count thy bruises one be one.

Let thy stripes and scourging smite me;

At thy holy Cross requite me,

Let thy blood refresh me there.

O how sad and sore distressed

Now was she, that mother blessed

Of the sole-begotten One.

Deep the woe of her affliction,

When she saw the crucifixion

Of her everglorious Son.

Note: We sing this great hymn during Lent on Thursday evenings as we contemplate the way of the Cross.  

Love of Solitude

Come away, my child;
Learn from Me, my heart.
Still your troubled mind;
Calm your anxious thoughts.

Come away, my child;
Learn from Me, my ears.
Heed the call to holiness;
Listen long before you speak.

I will guide you, child;
You will falter now and then.
I am always near at hand;
You are My beloved friend.

Come away, my child;
Learn from Me, my feet and hands.
Doing deeds of mercy;
Loving lost and struggling man.

Come away, my child;
Learn from Me, my lips and tongue.
Speak good words of comfort;
Tell of Christ's redeeming plan.

by Julie Dunlap  4-23-2011

O Lord, Seek Us

O Lord, seek us, find
     In Thy patient care;
By Thy love before, behind us,
     Round us everywhere:
Lest the god of this world blind us,
     Lest he speak us fair
Lest he forge a chain to bind us,
     Lest he bait a snare.
Turn not from us, call to mind us,
     Find, embrace us, bear;
Be Thy love before, behind us,
     Round us, everywhere.

by Christina Rossetti   1830-1894

Surrender

Lord, I lift my feeble hands;
I entrust my humble husband -
Placing him in Your loving care,
Lifting him up in constant prayer.
Take him with Your steady hands
As he travels into foreign lands.

Guide him as he teaches.
Bless the Word he preaches.
Sustain him in Your arms;
Protect him from all harm.
May my soul be still
As I trust Your Holy Will.

by Julie Dunlap   1-24-2012

Note: My husband is going to Tanzania to teach evangelists all of  this month and the first week of March.  May God bless his time away.

Prodigal Son

Come back, my precious son, come back.
My grieved heart sends forth deep sighs.
I call to you, my son, come back.
Get loose of the crafty enemy's lies.

I recall bright boyhood days.
You knew the love of our saving Lord.
Tricks and deceptions led you astray;
Dormant in your captive heart lies God's Word.

Your Father loves you deeply, my son,
Eager to take you in outspread arms.
His mercy follows after you, my precious son.
The blood of Jesus breaks Satan's deadly charms.

by Julie Dunlap    9-25-2000

Many years ago I wrote this poem for Caleb, and I praise the Lord that he came back to our Father's outstretched arms.  The angels in heaven rejoice and celebrate his return.

To Be Like Thee