A Nickel-What??? Nyckelharpa!

            Over the last 20 years, my husband Brian has had a stroking condition. And, over those years as each one hit, it would steal a little more from him. The accumulative effect left him nearly unable to speak except in a raspy whisper.

            Can you imagine a missionary preacher/teacher unable to speak?

            Not only that, but the stupid strokes stole some use of his hands. Brian’s an avid musician and music lover. He played guitar beautifully. Singing and playing had been his joys—that and ministering.

            So, when not only his voice diminished but the use of his ability to play guitar, we wondered what to do. First, we tried guitars with a narrower neck. Then less strings. But the time came when Brian despaired that his guitar-playing days were over.

            Brian enjoys listening to all types of instruments—historical ones intriguing him always.    

            One day, as he browsed the internet and listened to some ancient examples on YouTube, he announced, “I’ve found an instrument I think I could play!”

            “Oh, wow!” I exclaimed as he turned his laptop for me to see. I bobbed my head in surprise and wondered at this thing he discovered. “What in the world is THAT?”

            “A nyckelharpa.”

            “A nickel-what???” I raised an eyebrow.

            He slowly repeated, “Ny-ckel-harp-a. It’s a Swedish instrument, nicknamed keyed-fiddle!”

            I could see the joy flow into his expression as he explained further.

            “All I’d need to do to play it is press the keys and bow with my other hand. I could do that.”

            “Then I think we should get you one,” I said, hesitating before asking, “but how much are they?”

            “That’s the problem. They’re really expensive. In the thousands.”

            “Yikes!” I exclaimed.

            We were quiet a bit while we continued to listen to the broadcasted nyckelharpa. The player was amazing, as were his songs.

            When the music ended, I said, “I think you should get one. I don’t know how, but it seems a need—not just a want.”

            “We can’t afford it.” Brian turned his laptop back toward himself and muted it.

            “Well, we’ve asked God for big things before, and He’s done them for us,” I said.

            “We’ll see.”

            Not long after this conversation, our mission board’s regional director visited for our annual review. As Ken asked Brian about ministry then health, Brian shared how playing the guitar had become more difficult.

            I chimed in. “Tell him about your discovery!”

            Ken glanced my way then looked back at Brian. “Discovery?”

            “I’ve found an instrument I think I could play.”

            “What’s it like?” Ken asked.

            Brian picked up his laptop from the side table and fired it up. In minutes he located the nyckelharpa and turned the laptop to show Ken. “It’s a nyckelharpa.”

            “A nickel-what???” Ken exclaimed. “Never heard of such a thing. What’s it sound like?”

            Brian shared a brief sample then explained how he thought this would work for him with his damaged hands.

            Ken smiled and moved to the edge of his seat. “Then you should get one.”

            “It’s not in our budget right now,” Brian said a bit quieter.

            “Then we need to pray. RIGHT NOW! Let’s ask God to give you a nyckelharpa!”

            And he meant it. Ken prayed with conviction of one asking and expecting God to provide.

            What did God do? He answered.

            Long story short, in about 3 weeks a nyckelharpa arrived at our front door, and Brian began learning how to play it.

            Since June of 2018, this trusty instrument has been used for the Lord and now, every Sunday in church.

            The first time Brian brought it to church, our pastor told the congregation, “You need to come up after the service and see this instrument Brian’s got.”

            Folks gathered afterward, and Brian explained, “This is a nyckelharpa.”

            “A nickel-what???” some asked.

            And so the story goes each time we bring this answer-to-prayer to a new place!

            God never failed to meet our needs—ever. He even went so far as to gift my hurting husband with something as strange as a nyckelharpa, which restored some of the joy he’d lost.

            I’m writing this on hubby’s birthday! This memory—one of so many over the years.

            So, to you, hubby dear, you are now entering another year of life—and have added even more chapters of God’s faithfulness to you. I’m so thankful He expressed such love and great care to you through the gift of a…nickel-what???

            “Ny-ckel-harp-a!”

 

“Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my father;

there is no shadow of turning with Thee;

Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not;

as Thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.

(Refrain) Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see;

all I have needed Thy hand hath provided:

Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!”

 

(from the hymn GREAT IS THY FAITHFULNESS by Thomas O. Chisholm, 1923, public domain)

 

And before you go—Here’s a nyckelharpa duet by two excellent players:

Bach Double on nyckelharpa (youtube.com)

         

#answeredprayer #music #strokes #nyckelharpa #bcminternational #Godsfaithfulness

To You Who Love & Follow the Lord—A Blessing

 

“The LORD bless you and keep you;

The LORD make His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you;

The LORD lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace.”

Numbers 6:24-26

 

            These verses bring back treasured memories of my growing up years. You see, when I was the ripe ol’ age of 7, my parents helped Wilmos & Gladys Csehy (pronounced Shay-Hee) who founded a Christian summer music camp.

            The first year the Csehys needed a brochure photo to advertise. “Aunt” Gladys asked our family to meet them at Montrose Bible Conference in Pennsylvania. They were traveling evangelistic musicians, and they’d be there a date we could mutually meet.

 

           We drove from New Jersey. My sister brought along her Sunday dress and viola, and she met “Uncle” Wilmos up on the 2^nd floor balcony of the old Montrose dining hall building, where he also donned his best. They struck this having-a-lesson-with-the-master-violinist pose*, and it became "history!"

            That evening, when the business of music camp was accomplished, we enjoyed a Csehy concert at the tent meeting sight—sawdust trail and all. I sat on a bench by Adi Cierpke, the Csehy’s long-time soloist, and drew Flintstone cartoons. Yes, I really did. (Adi remembered that a long time later. We laughed about it.)

            When the next summer arrived, this Csehy dream had its new beginning with just a handful of students and faculty. Mom was secretary and registrar for decades, and Dad came along as maintenance with his only claim to musical talent being he “played the radio.”

            I biked my way around the Cedar Lake Bible Conference grounds that first summer and did errands between the office and faculty, fished with “Uncle” Wilmos and Dad some early mornings, played shuffleboard, and sat in on some of the teaching times. I wouldn’t start violin lessons until the following summer, but then I was still way too young to become a music camper. You had to be 12. I couldn’t wait!

            Those summers spent at music camp (first in Indiana and later in Pennsylvania) were pivotal in my life. The training received, the friends made, the foundations in faith we were taught—life changers. Direction givers. And, when I look back at what most mattered in my life overall, it was time spent at what became known as Csehy Summer School of Music.

            Oh, the stories I could share! The memories! And of all the men in my life besides my dad and now husband, I most valued the love shared with “Uncle” Wilmos. He instructed me in more than violin. He taught me life.

            So, why do the Bible verses at the top of this post remind me of music camp? At the end of every evening, we sang those in resounding, beautiful harmony. At the end of each weekly concert too.

            Now, as we too have a new beginning—this year 2024—I share with you this blessing, you who love and honor the Lord:

“The LORD bless you and keep you…”

            He will as you have committed your life to Him. And He will keep you. Keep! No matter what befalls you as you love, honor, and serve Him, He KEEPS. Even when it looks like there’s no hope. He cannot fail.

“…The LORD make His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you…”

            He delights in you, not only because you’ve committed to serve Him but because He loves you so completely, looking at you and upon you as the proud-of-you Father He is. And He’s gracious, kind, loving, caring, tender, compassionate. Everything that’s rolled into grace, including all He did on Calvary to bring you to this place and time. And to your commitment.

“…The LORD lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace.”

            Countenance! God looks upon you with joy and caring and supports you on your journey, which He knows will be rough. And, even when it turns the hardest of hard, He is able and ready to give you peace—the kind that we can’t always comprehend because it’s beyond our realm of understanding but are assured it’s there.

Amen.

(So be it.)

            Soldiers of the Cross, continue on—never quitting! The LORD is on your side, watching over you, delighting in you, filling you with His Peace, loving you always, and carrying you when you need it. We’ll need Him for sure in this coming year!

            In closing, may I bless you with the Csehy Summer School of Music anniversary rendition of Lutkin’s The LORD Bless You & Keep You—sung as we did every evening and at concerts. You will be lifted up, but you’ll also likely shed tears—so keep your tissues handy.

 

Lutkin Benediction Virtual Choir - YouTube

(Used with permission by CSSM.)

#dreamcometrue #musiccamp #CsehySummerSchoolofMusic #CSSM #MontroseBibleConference 

#benediction #blessing #newyear #Lord #blessing #PeterLutkin

 

*“Uncle” Wilmos Csehy & Carolyn Burns (personally owned photo). 

This blog post I wish to dedicate to my sister, one of the first-year music campers!

Take Back That Gift!

            Our firstborn wasn’t quite 3 years old the Christmas a dear friend presented her with a lovely, wrapped gift.

            Our daughter held the gift, stared at it a moment, then handed it back to the giver. “No bow!” she said. We shared a good laugh amidst that embarrassing moment.

            Would you believe this friend presented her gift to our daughter a second time? Yes. With a bow on top!

            This time it was accepted!

            People stand in long store lines after Christmas, waiting to return gifts for a multitude of reasons. “Too small, too big, already have one, don’t like this color, doesn’t work,” and the ultimate—just plain ol’ “don’t want it.”

             An unwanted gift? Hmm.

            My mind jumps to nearly 2 years after the birth of the Christ Child—when the magi came from the East to present the young Child with their gifts—gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

            Gold and frankincense? Lovely gifts honoring this Holy One.

            But myrrh???

            Good thing I wasn't the mother of Jesus! Had a wise man given my tot myrrh, I might've shoved it back at him and shouted, "Take back that gift!"

            Myrrh? Burial spice? An appropriate gift?

            But let me back up a bit. What about the strips of swaddling cloth Mary wrapped her newborn in at the time of His birth? As she wound those about Him, did she shed tears? After all weren’t these there in prep for the dead? Not an infant full of life?

            And what about the lambs that were swaddled, chosen to be sacrificed? Did her mind flash to an image of a lamb upon an altar? She’d been raised to practice Jewish ceremonial law. She knew what a Passover lamb was.

            And she knew she held the Ultimate Sacrifice—wrapped as one would be at burial.

… Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.”  Luke 2:19 

            I've thought a lot about Mary's pondering ... so much so that I asked my husband to look up "ponder" in the original language and context of that Scripture. One definition read "conflict." Indeed, Mary must have wrestled, knowing her newborn came into the world to die.

            Of course, all of us eventually die, but how many mothers' thoughts go there while beholding their infant?

             Over the years, I've known a handful of women who received dooming news before their babies' births. They still yearned to hold their little ones but shed many tears, cradling while their hearts moaned lullabies in minor keys. They treasured each moment with a mourning love.

            Mary likely felt the way those moms did.  Hit with the realization that the infant she caressed, wrapped in burial cloths, would die. And when the magi came a long time later, she faced that again.

            So, she didn’t return the gift of myrrh but accepted it, knowing her son would need it. What an awful pondering for her and Jesus!

            Thirty-some years later they beheld each other from different vantage points at Calvary ... the moment they both dreaded yet accepted, knowing the will of The Father.

            Good thing Mary accepted that gift, and I’m grateful the Son of God did too. He rose again to give us all another gift—eternal life.

            I chose that gift when I asked Jesus into my life, and there's no taking that back! I'm His child for keeps. Hallelujah!

 

Man of sorrows what a name for the Son of God, who came

Ruined sinners to reclaim: Hallelujah, what a Savior!

Bearing shame and scoffing rude, in my place condemned he stood,

Sealed my pardon with his blood: Hallelujah, what a Savior!

Guilty, helpless, lost were we; blameless Lamb of God was he,

Sacrificed to set us free: Hallelujah! What a Savior!

 

(from Man of Sorrows by Philip P. Bliss, 1875, public domain)

 

#Christmas #Mary #Jesus #swaddlingcloths #magi #goldfrankincensemyrrh

#gift #sacrifice #LambofGod #Passoverlamb #ponder

Putting On Immortality

            About 2 weeks ago our church said good-bye to our pastor’s wife. Sheila suffered years with Parkinson’s and also pulmonary fibrosis. In her last year especially, her health nosedived, and her loving husband stepped into the position as her full-time caregiver.

            I didn’t know Sheila long, and I can’t even say I knew her well like others in the congregation did. I felt, though, like there was an empty spot in my heart when I heard she was in her last days and then went Home. We’d shared a bond.

            You see, it’s not always easy being a minister’s wife. Sheila had been for decades (as had I). Maybe that’s what first drew me to her—knowing there was someone sitting in that pew “over there” who knew the joys and trials of being the helpmeet to a man called of God.

            I don’t make friends as easily as I used to. But, hey, I thought I should at least reach out to this lady. I asked, at first being unsure who exactly was the pastor’s wife but having heard her name mentioned, “Are you Sheila?”

            She replied, “There are two Sheilas in the church. I have Parkinson’s.”

            I was a little surprised she shared the second part of that, but then I understood a tad why she was so soft-spoken, hesitated in her moves, and seemed partially frozen in her expressions. I decided right then I wanted this lady to know I was willing to be her friend.

            When spring of that first year arrived, Sheila invited me to come see her flowers. I went. At that point she needed her husband’s arm to walk their large backyard. Her honey helped her from plant to planting, while she filled me in on where those blossoms were from and how they were doing that year in comparison. We stopped while Pastor Ronnie took out his phone (camera) and clicked photos of the ones he knew she loved best. And I noted how gently he laid them against his hand while doing so. Just like he did when he cared for Sheila—his gentle, fragile flower.

            Pastor Ronnie helped her back to the deck, and he went off to do another job while Sheila and I sat and talked. That afternoon I learned a lot about this lady—both joys and sorrows and her trust in our sovereign God.

            The next very long talk we had took place in the hospital after she faced more physical challenges. I saw in this lady a quiet strength, a keen wit, an amazing sense of humor, and sometimes fears. But always honesty.

            When I was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis, it was Sheila I’d look to for the courage to go on. She already had that label, and I was actually amazed God placed two minister’s wives in a little town in a small church with the same disease. It seemed by design.

            As more time passed, Sheila’s needs became greater. Her husband first assisted her into church with her walker, then a wheelchair. It was a privileged to sit with her after morning services as Pastor Ronnie greeted congregants exiting the church. Those were special, precious moments with only a handful of minutes, but I’m so glad we shared them. And each of these times, Sheila quietly greeted me with, “Hello, friend.”

            But now she’s gone from this earth, and she’s put on immortality.

           “Put on immortality!” Wow! Just think about that! I have recently—more than ever before. Maybe because this year I’ve faced my own mortality.

            Each person who’s trusted Jesus as Lord and Savior, when they die, steps out of clay and becomes immortal. And think how that became possible! The Immortal One Himself stepped down from Heaven and put on mortality to be like us. To be flesh for a time so that He could be the sacrifice for us.

            This is at the core of Christmas. Jesus—the Babe in the manger—born to die. Yet He was King of Kings, our High Priest too.

          When the wise men came (up to 2 years later), they recognized this in the gifts they brought to present to Him. Gold—a gift fit for a king, frankincense—for holy recognition of a priest. Myrrh—the saddest “Christmas” gift ever, yet that which pointed to a fulfillment of prophecy. This royal, priestly Baby came to die. And for that to happen, He had to put on mortality.

      Dear Lord,

            How very special of You to welcome Sheila Home at this time of year when our thoughts are turned toward You and Your Birthday! And, although joy has turned to sadness for a time, in bidding this one farewell, we thank You for the gift of salvation You offered her and that she accepted that gift—and, in a very real way, carried immortality—You—within her heart and life until it was time to lay aside her body of clay.

           Thank you for Sheila’s lovely example to me and us all. She made a difference.

           This Christmas may we not forget the greatest Gift—You—and Your sacrifice in coming to rescue us. We, too, look forward to putting on immortality and living with You in Your perfect time.

            In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

 

O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.

Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting light;

The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.

 

For Christ is born of Mary; and, gathered all above,

While mortals sleep, the angels keep their watch of wond’ring love.

O morning stars, together proclaim the holy birth,

And praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on earth.

 

How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is giv’n!

So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His heav’n.

No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin,

Where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in.

 

O holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray;

Cast out our sin and enter in; be born in us today.

We hear the Christmas angels, the great glad tidings tell;

O come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Emmanuel!

 

(from the Christmas carol O LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM by Phillip Brooks, 1868, public domain)

 

#death #mortality #immortality #Christmas #Bethlehem #God #Jesus #friend

 

Photos: Flowers in remembrance & Aurora Fundamental Methodist Church—where Pastor Ronnie & his wife have served their Lord well, and where we said “see you later” to Sheila. (used with permission)

A Gunshot & the Gospel

             The year—1978. My fiancé Brian and I served in leadership at Camp Hope for the disabled, located in Kent Cliffs, New York. Our counselors arrived. We had a great group of them and even some who lived with disabilities as well.

            One of the boys’ counselors was Tony! This fella won the hearts of us all and his campers as nothing seemed to stop him in his specially designed sports wheelchair. He wore a smile most if not all of the time.

            Brian and Tony became fast-friends, and that friendship has stayed sweet and strong over the decades from those days when we were all much younger … and thinner (ahem).

            I’ve asked Tony to be my guest blogger this week. May his testimony be a blessing to you!

             “I grew up in the ghettos of East Baltimore. There has always been high drug and illegal gun trafficking in the area. Most do not know that homicide in Baltimore is higher than New York City!

            I spent my pre-teen years listening to Dr. Martin Luther King and Malcom X publicly advocating for “black power” and equal rights for African Americans. Yes, I was around to hear them when they were actually alive! There was a Black Panther recruiting center just around the block from where I lived.

            As a result of illegal gun trafficking, I suffered a gunshot wound to my back which left me a T9-T10 paraplegic. The prognosis was that I would be permanently paralyzed from the waist down for the rest of my life, as told to me by the John’s Hopkins surgeon.

            When I sat in my wheelchair, I felt like I was suspended above a bowl of Jello. No feeling at all below my waist.

            My year and a half in rehabilitation was spent at Good Samaritan Hospital in Maryland. It was a shock to me and my physical therapist when I began to have feeling in my legs. Eventually, feeling and function returned in my right leg and waist.

            From my upbringing, I knew that only a “miracle” would have allowed me to gain mobility, so I began asking questions about the existence of God and what that had to do with me.

            As a result of being involved in a youth group Bible study, I discovered that the Lord Jesus Christ died a substitutionary death to pay for sins … my sins. There is no “scale of justice” here!  No good weighed against the bad. If that were the case, I would have been found wanting and sentenced to eternal separation from the God I love.

            Because the Lord Jesus Christ’s sacrifice was a substitute for me, I needed to accept and trust His sacrifice to be enough to buy my soul’s eternal safety.

            So, at a Youth for Christ meeting I acknowledged His sacrifice on my behalf and accepted it as a sufficient sacrifice. He volunteered to satisfy the price for sin I couldn’t pay.”

—Tony Hewitt

“Whoever has the Son has life;

whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life.

I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God,

that you may know that you have eternal life.” I John 5:12-13

            November 25^th that same year Tony sang at our wedding. The song? He Touched Me by Bill & Gloria Gaither. Here is a version you can listen to—although not Tony—sung by an okay group (smile):  

He Touched Me (Live At Bon Secours Wellness Arena, Greenville, SC/2018) - YouTube 

            In 1987 we shared in Tony and Teresa’s special day as they were joined in marriage! They’ve continued on through life with the joy of the Lord as their strength, being a blessing to so many lives around them.

            Thank You, God, for the lives of this brother and sister in Christ—for their zeal for you and their commitment—not only to each other—but to You for the cause of furthering the Gospel. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

 

*gunshot *paraplegic *Baltimore *miracle *YouthforChrist *Christssacrifice

*Hetouchedme *Gaither *commitment *Gospel 

Photo: Tony & Teresa Hewitt (used with permission)

Happy Adoption Day—So You Don’t Go Through This Life Alone

  

          Today we celebrate a family event—Min’s Adoption Day! Anniversary #26! Here you see us pictured (November 14^th, 1997) gathered around Judge David Klim.

            Outside a blizzard had hit our fair city. We often joke about that in connection to taking Min into our family as he was somewhat of a “storm” himself! Min’s life, however, would be fraught with physical and mental challenges.

            Here’s a piece I wrote during one of those times (May 31^st, 2012) when Min was recovering from major abdominal surgery:

 

            “Last Sunday should have been our son’s high school graduation. That’s what is marked on the calendar. But what actually took place was abdominal surgery. Of course, God knew this all ahead of time. He even knew before we adopted Min that he’d one day face this surgery due to his genetic disease.

            Week ago Monday our son had an ultrasound to study his kidneys, which can become problematic for kids with neurofibromatosis type 1. During that scan, a large mass was discovered. We spent the rest of that week helping Min through additional test, resulting in surgery by week’s end. Now that the grapefruit-sized mass is removed, our son lies recovering—very slowly and not so smoothly.

            Because of our son’s other life-struggle, Asperger’s, we’re staying with him around-the-clock, attempting to keep his busy hands from undoing IVs, stopping him from removing tubes that must stay put, and protecting his long incision. A 24/7 task.

            A thought occurred to me when doctors told us our son would have a large active tumor removed … This is why we adopted Min—so he wouldn’t go through this alone. Oh sure, there were other reasons, but perhaps none so important as this (with exception to teaching him about the Savior so he’d one day accept Jesus into his life).

            Did we adopt Min because we needed him? Not in one sense of the word. Did we want him? Yes. If we hadn’t adopted him, he was slated to go to an orphanage for the “unadoptable.”    

            I thought about what it might’ve been like if Min faced this surgery and rough aftermath in a hospital without family … perhaps alone and so full of fear.

            I’ve also reflected how my relationship with God, Who adopted me, is similar. Did He need me? Not really. Did He want me? Yes. And He is with me through all the trials I go through. That’s a great reason to be adopted!

            I’m eternally thankful my loving Father took me in and made me a part of His family so I don’t go through ANYTHING alone.

            During Min’s struggles with testing, surgery, and rough post-op, he cried, ‘I’m so glad you are here to help me.’

            Min, we are too … and we’re also grateful God is with us all, so we don’t go through this life alone.”

I’m So Glad I’m a Part of the Family of God

Bill Gaither - The Family Of God (Live At Gaither Studios, Alexandria, IN/2022) - YouTube

 

*adoption *neurofibromatosis *NF *Godsfamily *belonging *neveralone *happyadoptionday

 

Note: A shorter, redirected version of this May 31^st, 2012 piece is entered as a letter to Min in his memoir, A Home for Min Soo—Putting Together the Pieces of my Life by Kim, Min Soo (available through online booksellers. Also available in eBook and audiobook forms).