7/8/2019
Another momentous week is upon us! Some of us had extended days off because of the “4th” holiday. I could get used to that a little too easily, I think. But, since I don’t engage in really hard work, I’d best be up and about myself this morning. There’s a few things to do. A few different ways to approach normal tasks and some chronic problems getting resolved. Like, most of the Blue Jug inventory problems, water containers, are on their way and we have secured warehouse space to hold it all, thanks to Greg, my neighbor being generous enough to share his extra space with us. That’s a great plus!
Three times now, for a variety of audiences, I have sung a song I love about the grace of God. It was the SIMH today, and since hearing it about 6 months ago, it is a welcome consciousness! It’s name is “Grace.” It is recorded by City Alight and I cannot find another writer, but it seems to me to be an old Irish ballad, sort of updated to fit our version of the English language. The chorus or “bridge” goes like this: “By grace I am redeemed, by grace I am restored, and now I freely walk into, the arms of Christ my Lord.” 4 verses, loving words which all depict what we have in Christ our Lord.
Singing in my amateur way reminds me of childhood days when attending Separate Baptist churches where my father pastored. We heard some good singing, but we also had to endure some very poor singing, as well. One that comes to mind was an old man who would regularly respond to my dad saying to those who were in attendance, “Who’s got a song for us this morning?” and up would rise Mr. Terhune (I think that as his name.) Now, no one would ever doubt this old man’s sincerity or his honesty in his intentions to glorify God. But, the man couldn’t sing worth a flip! His favorite song to whittle his way through was the old hymn, “Haven of Rest.” It has a line which says, “…my fetters fell off” and it never failed: he said “…my feathers fell off!” Us kids, with each mother or father or both glaring angrily at us, could not help but laugh, or giggle when he did that, even though we heard him do it as often as he carried the tune (or failed to carry it.) In eternity, if he’s there, I owe him an apology!
He lived in East Columbus, IN, which had a uniqueness about their little SB church: It was just basement. I guess they always intended to build on top of it, but the last I heard it was still just a basement. That group of churches, called the Central Indiana Association of Separate Baptist, was about 18-20 in number and they had 2 such basement churches, the other in the West side of Bloomington. (I thought this was odd: one basement in East Columbus and one in West Bloomington; and if you look on a map, Columbus is East of Bloomington.)
In contrast, the association had a little country church on a clay hill just south of Camp Atterbury, in Bartholomew County, which was just a little box of a building. When they needed more space, they decided to dig down under it, blast out the old dry clay and make a basement under the existing building! What an event that was for a young pup like me and my brother Jack to get to see happen! I’m thinking Jack could probably add more detail to that event. I’ll have to ask him what he remembers about it. I recall it was mostly done in the evenings; they used dynamite caps, after pounding a hole in the clay, maybe 4 ft deep, drop in the cap, set the cap off, wait till the dust cleared, check the building to make sure they hadn’t cracked the foundation, then haul out the chunks of hard clay dirt till they made a nice sized basement, useful for them, I suppose. Quite a feat for a group so small. ….oh, the memories,…they do continue to flow.—-Oh! one more thing about that church: their sign spelled separate, Seperate. Can’t find a dictionary that allows that is OK, but they didn’t mind.
Thanks for reading, the Elder
the Elder's Blog 