The Return We Make

Many of you are probably wearing green today, for fear of getting pinched. :)  Others might be rolling your eyes at a "hallmark holiday" or hating the drunken revelry that often goes on in the name of "St. Patrick's Day."  While I certainly don't personally buy gifts or cards for today, and I do regret anyone taking time to become drunk, I do love St. Patrick's Day and what it stands for.  Hmmm... what does it stand for?

The man whom we honor died on March 17th.  His whole adult life was spent preaching the Gospel* to the Druidic kingdoms of old Ireland-- the very people who had enslaved him as a boy.  He returned to them voluntarily, coming to view his time of captivity as a blessing-- not only the crucible God used to save him, but also a chance to learn the Irish language fluently.  He had since studied and been approved by church leaders and been sent as a missionary, burdened for the souls of the people who had once kidnapped him, and determined that the true God be worshiped as He deserved in every nation under Heaven as Scripture teaches.  St. Patrick is an emblem of evangelism, of fearless strength in weakness, and of passionate, self-risking love for even enemies.  St. Patrick's Day is "about" the glory of God, courage, and the power of the Gospel to save!  AMEN!!

 My two favorite quotes from the fearless missionary, passionate evangelist and careful pastor, the one we now call Saint Patrick:

Wherefore, I cannot keep silence-- nor would it be fitting.  [...] For this is the return we make, that after our chastening or after our recognition of God, we should exalt and proclaim His wondrous ways before every nation which is under the whole heaven.

And-

And so in the measure of our faith in the Trinity, it is fitting for me to explain, and without censure of rashness, to make known the gift of God and the everlasting hope.  Moreover, it is fitting that I spread everywhere the name of God without fear, confidently; so that after my death I may leave a legacy to my brethren and my sons whom I baptized in the Lord-- so many thousands of men.

My husband gave me a translation of all of Patrick's known works for Christmas the second year we were married, and reading it not only opened my eyes to the truly great man of God that Patrick (or Sucat, as he was first known) was, but it was a huge encouragement to me spiritually, a spur towards passionate love for the Lost and supreme confidence in a worthy Savior.  One of my favorite Southern professors has just written a bit about Patrick on his blog, too.  Check it out!

* The word "Gospel" means "good news," and is shorthand for what God has done to save sinful man.  The good news is that even though we are incapable of moving towards God on our own, He (God the Son) became a man (Jesus the Christ) in order to bring us to Himself.  He did this by living a perfect life, dying a death whose worst torture wasn't the physical agony but rather being forsaken and abandoned by God the Father-- He did this to pay the penalty for our sins, as He had none of His own to pay for, and then being raised after 3 days in a Jewish tomb.  He went back to Heaven and sent His Holy Spirit into the hearts of all His followers, and in this way lives with His people even now, 2000+ years after his physical life on earth.  Christians are those who believe this to be true and trust Christ's finished work on the Cross as their only way to be saved from the eternal torment they know their sins deserve. They view it as their GOOD NEWS!!

I Will Carry You

I've been reading several blogs along a theme, the links of which are below. While the theme may seem morbid, it is in fact one of the most hope-full, encouraging, and Resurection-looking topics I have explored lately. That theme is mothers finding out they are pregnant with fatally ill babies, and choosing to allow God to act as the Giver and Taker of life that He Is by continuing on with their pregnancies. They do this while praying for miraculous healing, knowing that God can do all things at any time. Terminating a pregnancy-- killing their sick child-- would leave no room for God to act as Taker of life on His timetable, nor Healer and Sustainer as He chooses. It's also amazingly hard to do, like embracing a burning brand. Their stories testify in no uncertain terms that they've found it worth it. Please read, and worship.

My post's title has a double meaning, which mesh and overlap:  it's something each of these faithful, inspiringly sacrificial parents said to their physically "defective" children, as in, "I will carry you (pregnancy-wise) to full term, and treasure and celebrate every moment of your life, no matter how few seconds we get. Every kick in the womb, every ultasound photo, is an affirmation of your God-given, precious, on-purpose life."

They had the courage, selflessness, and strength to do that, to say that, because they believed with all their hearts that GOD was sovereignly, kindly, gently carrying them.

Audrey Caroline

Eliot

Claire

Briar  (a friend of a friend--this blog is still in real time; you can be a part of this story!)

Audrey's mom, Angie Smith, has recently published a book of their journey, called I Will Carry You. It's available on amazon and looks really really good. (Please comment if you've read it!)

Here is one more blog I've read recently that is related in it's affirmation of the sanctity of ALL life, but is in some ways even more costly than carrying a terminally ill child to term: the long-term parenting of a special-needs child.

Greg Lucas' fatherly musings: Wrestling with an Angel

Reading these is helping me to treasure every bit of Éowyn that I can, and every child that I meet...and if you think about it, everybody's someone's baby.

~Christina

Those Men That God Made Mad

"The [Celts:] men that God made mad.
For all their wars are merry
And all their songs are sad." --G.K. Chesterton

Except their warsongs, of course!! I am LOVING this one (an account of the Battle of Prestonpans, from the 2nd Jacobite rising, in which the royal English troops fled in terror from charging Highlanders, accompanied- of course- by loud pipes) on my new Tannahill Weavers CD! E & I are dancing to it... Enjoy the words. I LOVE the brogue!! Oh to know how to dance to pipes and pennywhistles... Here is the Tannahill Weaver's abbreviated version of the popular "Trenet Muir"

"The chevalier being void o' fear did march doon Birsle Brae man
Through Tranent e'er he did stent as fast as he could gae man
While General Cope did taunt and mock wie many a loud hurrah man
E'er next morn proclaimed the cock we heard another craw man

The brave Lochiel as I heard tell led Cameron on in cloods man
The morning fair and clear the air they loosed wie devilish thuds man
Doon guns they threw and swords they drew and soon did chase them aff man
On Seaton's crafts they burst their chafts and gart them run like daft man

The bluff dragoons swore blood and oons they'd mak' the rebels run man
And yet they flee when them they see and winnae fire a gun man
They turned their backs the fit tae crack such terror siezed them a' man
Some wet their cheeks some fyled their breeks and some for fear did fa' man

Smith* made sic' haste sae spurred his beast 'twas little there he saw man
Tae Berwick rade and safely said the Scots were rebels a' man
O'er Soutra Hill ere he stood still afore he tasted meat man
Lang may he brag on his swift nag that bore him aff sae fleet man

But Gardner* brave did still behave like to a hero bright man
His courage true, like him were few, that still despised flight man
For king and laws and country's cause in honours bed did fa' man
His life but not his courage fled while he had breath tae draw man

At yon thorn tree that you may see beneath the meadow mill man
There's many slain lie on the plain the clans pursuing still man
Sic' unco whacks and deadly hacks I never saw the likes man
Lost hands and heids cost them their deeds that fell near Preston Dyke man"

*Lt Smith later charged the songwriter to a duel over this!
*Col Gardiner stayed despite the massacre going on around him, and the mass retreat, fighting heroically (near a white thorntree) alongside Sir Thomas Hay of Park, who survived. A servant carried him to the parsonage where he died in the night from his wounds.

Unfortunately for them, the Jacobites pretty much gave up when their intelligence incorrectly surmised that a huge English/German (Hanoverian) army would block their advance to London. Oh well.

Eowyn, I promise I will spin you stories to put steel in your spine, sing you songs that put wings in your feet, and surround you with joy enough to make you want to dance. May your faith outshine mine, your words outrhyme mine, and your steps outdance mine. Dance in tune to the song of the Stars, who still whirl in step to His Song.