October's Hymn

Part 1 

You always know it's the fall season here at Healing Brook, not so much by the gentle drifting of changing colors, but more by the plummeting of dirty white clumps. Our Great Pyrenees have begun to participate in the Olympic farm sport known as "the blowing of the undercoat." I can already see that Aslan is a shoo-in for the gold medal. 

Aslan reminds me of that popular Pyrenees meme where the dog sits in mounds of shedded, thick hair while his owner exclaims, "How are you not bald?" This is so relatable. 

Much of our dogs' clods of discarded white hair are now scattered like autumn leaves among the chicken's fall molting event. This morning as my boots scuffed through the wreckage toward the barn I thought if I had to come up with a farm brand name it would definitely be "Fur and Feathers." Kind of catchy, I think 

Being October my attention is also drawn to the fact that it is "Reformation Month," and it is on my heart to write a bit on the subject of the Protestant Reformation and the significance of it, not just in church history, but history in general. 

One year ago this past weekend, actually it was on the twentieth anniversary of my sister Kathy's death, I was up early with plans to spend the day with my dad and attend church with him and take him to lunch. However, he had been battling a bad infection in his leg and called at the last minute to say that he didn't feel up to it. So there I was all dressed way earlier than usual for church on a Sunday morning. 

The Farmer looked at me and said, "You've been wanting to attend a service at Grace Church; since you're all ready, I'm taking you this morning." I've always been transparent in my blogging with the details of our faith journey in hopes that it could help others, so I'm not going to stop now. I hope I encourage you to journal your own as well. The often forgotten little details of our lives stir the affections of the heart toward God when we can look back and see what he has been doing all along. 

I began reading my Bible back in January of 2019 as if someone had suddenly flipped on a light switch in my brain. I had been in church my entire life and done morning "devotions" since I was a teenager, but something was different. Something had changed inside of me after a dark night of the soul. And the crazy, cool thing was that it had happened to the Farmer as well just two weeks prior. 

After that I remember a voracious hunger for the Bible. I began reading through it and really wrestling with the texts of Scripture for the first time in my life it seemed. I came face to face with the sovereignty of God and began to see the Holy God of the Bible and his Son Jesus truly again for the first time in my life, by the guidance of his Holy Spirit I know now. I saw the doctrines of grace, and even though I didn't understand them thoroughly and grappled mightily with them, I couldn't unsee them. 

It was excruciating to think of leaving my current church family for another one as the decision took several years to execute, but my heart kept yearning for the "Reformed" tradition. It wouldn't go away. I didn't even know fully what that all meant exactly - I had never identified with any denomination or faith tradition in particular. I had just always referred to myself as a Christian - the Farmer too. And I began to believe that Reformed theology was biblical theology. 

We had visited several Reformed churches in and outside of our area, one in particular with some of our dear friends, but not Grace Church. Thinking back now, I think it was because I didn't want the church to "disappoint" me. Although we had never visited a worship service at Grace Church, back in the late eighties and early nineties, before we homeschooled our two sons, they had attended Grace Academy - an elementary school operated at Grace Church. 

Those early school years were a wonderful experience, and I guess deep in my heart I didn't want that experience to be spoiled. I'm weird like that. So Grace Church was the last one on our list of churches to visit. 

Anyway, one of the things I remember the most about Grace Academy is that they did not celebrate Halloween. The teachers didn't make a big fuss over denouncing it or anything; it was just that their focus in October was centered on teaching and remembering the Protestant Reformation. 

Those memories touched something in my soul and something from my childhood. The creeds, the confessions, the catechisms, the hymns. 

The first Sunday we visited Grace Church, October 13, 2024, happened to be the last day of the congregation's "Mission's Conference." That was not planned; we had no idea. But as you may imagine with the call on the Farmer's life in Indonesia and throughout Asia, he loved and connected with the church's commitment to local and world evangelism and missions. For him it seemed like an instant connection. 

For me it all seemed like God's Providence. 

💜

To be continued