E-Letter #151

Posted by on Jan 16, 2014 in Devotions | 0 comments

We Presbyterians cling to and are strengthened by an understanding of the communion of saints that stretches across all boundaries, including the boundary of time.  This communion becomes more real, more precious to us whenever someone beloved joins the eternal communion of saints seated around the Table in the Kingdom of Heaven.  At such times, feelings are deeper than words, and yet, our human frailty draws us to the w/Word.

This morning, our beloved poetess, Lucy Harvey, shares her sentiments with us in a touching poem about our “little white church in the vale.”



“There is a quiet place

Far from the rapid pace

Where God can soothe my troubled mind.”


Stained glass radiance; the Cross and Crown, the Dove, the Word. Sanctuary.

Soaring praise in music; praise in eloquent word. Peace, His presence known.

Missionaries sharing the Good News with us, as with our brothers and sisters in far places.

Seminarians nervously trying out their calling. White-crowned servants, bringing once again the eternal message.

Drops of water on an infant head, the newest of God’s family. (We promise, Lord, to guide the child to You.)

Sunday school, youth group, joy-filled summers at Montreat. Bonds that will endure forever.

Nativity pageants; bedspreads and drapes become glittering costumes, blessed by love in their creation. Hot chocolate, and the Miracle made real.

Youth Sundays; an unaccustomed speaker grips the pulpit, and wonders if his fingerprints are permanent. Of course, they are.

Our Minnie, an infant in her arm and a toddler by the hand, loving each as her own.

Covered-dish suppers, one family around the table.

Choir, the whole always greater than the sum of alto and soprano, bass and tenor.  Bells, and children’s Joyful Singing.

Joys, faith, gifts, talents, love; multiplied in the giving as were the loaves and fishes.

Tears, and hurt red and blinding; healed through His Amazing Grace – Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

This – the church; the legacy of saints gone on; the covenant of struggling saints still here. Reaching out, each bearing on the other.


“And from the quiet place

I go prepared to face a new day

With love for all humankind.”

Lucy Harvey