FACE TO FACE....

The amazing story behind a beloved hymn.

At that last breath that separates “now” from eternity—what will we behold? Those of us who've had loved ones pass through that sacred curtain consider that question. My own family losses have made one particular hymn especially poignant: “Face to Face.” Its title references the apostle Paul's teaching at the end of his “love chapter” (1 Corinthians 13) about changes in eternity when we will know the full expression of God's love:

Now we see but a poor reflection; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part, then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. (v. 12)

The phrase “face to face” also deeply touched a homemaker and mother of five, Carrie Breck, who in her precious spare time in those days of labor-intensive homemaking (imagine life without your kitchen and laundry appliances!) managed to compose the lyrics to between 1,400 and 1,500 hymns! Oh yes, add in a giant move from her “roots” in New Jersey to Portland, Oregon. Did I mention when she lived? Her life spanned from 1855 to 1934—long before modern appliances that speed the chores of home and family.

Unknown to Mrs. Breck, some friends had invited a young music evangelist, Grant Tullar, to their home for a quick super of leftovers before he continued revival meetings at their church. The hosts knew Tullar loved jelly, so passed the jar to him. Smiling, he said, “So, this is all for me, is it?” Just like that, the idea for a hymn started coming. Going to his hosts' piano, on the spot Tullar composed the words and melody for a hymn that began “All for me the Savior suffered;/All for me He bled and died.” That night he reportedly sang that new hymn at the services he was leading.

Hang on...talk about timing. The next morning's mail brought him a packet of poems by a Mrs. Beck. One began, “Face to face with Christ my Savior;/Face to face what will it be?” As he read her poem, he realized its poetic cadence fit the same music score that he'd written (with words beginning “All for me”) the day before. At services that night, he sang her words to his hymn melody instead of his own. As they say, the rest is history.

This amazing story of timing, and of lyrics and poem matching—well, it had to be a God-thing. And I also think of how, someday, in what Mrs. Breck called “the by and by,” I too, will face Him in all His glory. Face to face! I can't even imagine it—yet.

Sing along with this You-Tube: Bing Videos

BLUE GOLD

I don't have much of a green thumb—my small food-growing space has no rows of carrots, corn, or even kohlrabi. (What's kohlrabi? 😁Enlarge your knowledge of vegetables here: What Is Kohlrabi? Everything You Need to Know ). But my yard does host some wonderful edibles: namely, blueberries. Planted several decades ago, this year five of my seven plants have “earned their keep” with a good crop.

With its arid climate, my hometown isn't real friendly to thirsty blueberries. But this past year I followed a hint to spread at their roots the used grounds from my morning coffee “brewing.” Between that, and a healthy “bee visitation” for pollination, I held hopes for my best yield ever. I also spread a net over the bushes to keep the robins from beating me to the ripening “blue gold.”

I wasn't disappointed. Now, when I lift that net and pick blueberries in the cool of the morning or early evening, I can usually harvest a couple or three cups at a time. While picking or packing away in the freezer, I sometimes think of the spiritual lessons my blueberry patch offers. One, of course, is their inherent “goodness.” Just one cup (84 calories), besides being high in Vitamin K1 (for bone and heart health), also boosts immunities. The analogy: a regular intake of scriptures is “blueberries for the soul.” Also, several fruitful plants are better than one. God created us to live in community, to help and bless others. We were created to bear spiritual fruit (the whole point of John 15), not just be woody old branches sittin' there.

Oh yes, my plants have some “woody old branches” from their original planting, but they are supporting the new growth of leafed, fruit-bearing limbs. This reminds me that you can't just stagnate on an old original “planting” (as in a long-ago spiritual "decision"). Those early stems must reproduce more living twigs to support the plant's future blossoms and eventual berries. There's no tolerance for the attitude, “Well, I prayed the conversion prayer back a few years ago and that should be good enough.” Spiritual growth means expansion and fruit-bearing.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get some breakfast. I make my own granola cereal. With fresh blueberries and some milk, oh my—breakfast is the best.

BALANCING ACTS

How do they do it—I mean, birds, able to outshine human circus performers with their ability to balance a big body (relatively speaking) on a tiny branch? Or even that precarious ledge of a bird feeder? I am challenged to balance on a bike. If you really want to get into the anatomy of balanced birds, hold on:

*They have anisodactyl foot structure. Three toes point forward, one (called the “hallux”) back. That gives them a better grip and balance on a branch.

*They have a flexor tendons that tighten when they land and bend knee and ankle. The tightening is enhanced by tiny ridges, “tubercies,” and other things that secure the grip.

*They have scutellae (this is really getting into scientific terms!), which are rough scales on their toes and feet that help them grip on smooth or narrow perches.

*They have a tail (well, duh!) that acts as a counterbalance adjustment for the bird's center of gravity.

Caution: don't try this yourself on a local tree. You lack some of the necessary anatomical equipment. But maybe there's a picture here of how we can “get a grip on life” when we land precariously in a tough place. Or how we want to be really close and personal with God—depending on Him and trusting in Him.

I'm grateful God didn't put “bird legs” on humans but an amazing complex foot that can do all sorts of wonderful stuff (although clinging to a narrow tree branch isn't in the list). “Clinging” (not the bird type) is a very Biblical concept. In the original Hebrew, it's dabeq, which means “to cleave, to adhere to.” David used the term in Psalm 63:8. In the King James version, it's rendered, “My soul followed hard after thee.” The NIV translates: “I stay close to you; your right hand upholds me.” We might paraphrase, “God, I've landed in a precarious place. I want to be really close to You, depending on You and trusting in You.”

That psalm's background adds perspective to that sense of agitation in the midst of trust. David probably wrote it when he was the wilderness of Judah, likely in a lot of personal distress in his long siege of avoiding King Saul's wrath and murderous search for him.

It's been said of super-busy or super-desperate people that they are “trying to find balance.” And maybe that's where the little bird (whose top-heavy body somehow achieves “balance” with those thin, spindly legs) can teach us something. It's not all about our effort when we find ourselves in a precarious position. God has equipped us to find the right grip in places that defy our spiritual balance. We don't have a bird's amazing anatomy, but we do have God's presence and Word. He can strengthen our “grip” on the fragile branches of life. And He can help us find the balance to stay steady when, instead of flying high, we're to sit and wait for His next instruction.