That's Amore!

When the staff had a marriage retreat last month we agreed that one of the most memorable events was when Arie Mangrum (leading the session on romance) had us tell one another what our "song" was. Each person went around the room sharing; and at some point, Jimmy pulled out his laptop and started to play the free 30 seconds of each song from itunes. Couple after couple was reduced to tears in less than 30 seconds. It truly was precious and one of our cherished memories from that retreat. The other night Jason and I were playing Freeze Dance with the kids when Jason put on our song. It is "I Will Be Here" by Stephen Curtis Chapman. As I listened to the words I started crying, of course. My kids were staring at us slow dancing in the middle of the family room - both crying. Why is it that when we were courting and this was the song Jason would sing to me in the car, I wouldn't cry? Well, I suppose it is because I was listening to it with hopeful anticipation; looking toward the future. Now, I can look back and the words are even more precious because we have lived some of them. We have real pictures to put with various phrases which at one time were simply hypothetical. We have seen God's grace in ten years like we never could have anticipated, or predicted. I can hardly imagine how listening to songs are for my parents who celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary this year (going on a well-deserved cruise this Saturday). They don't just have A song, they have a whole cd my Dad put together for my Mom (how sweet and romantic). He can hardly hum a line of song after song without getting misty eyed. I pray our marriage will look like theirs as it seasons with life in God's grace. Try this: Next date night, try listening to "your song" together. Maybe the song you danced to first. Maybe a song you sang to your spouse on your wedding day, or your spouse sang to you. I have a feeling it will affect your heart much like it did each one of us.

Parenting by Faith or by Fear?

I know most of you who read this already visit the GirlTalk blog regularly, but I want to draw attention to the following quote by Carolyn Mahaney because I thought it was soooooo helpful.

Faith toward God is the foundation of effective mothering. Did you catch that? Here it is again: Faith toward God is the foundation of effective mothering. Success as a mother doesn’t begin with hard work or sound principles or consistent discipline (as necessary as these are). It begins with God: His character, His faithfulness, His promises, His sovereignty. And as our understanding of these truths increases, so will our faith for mothering. You see, it is relatively easy to implement new practices in parenting. But if our practices (no matter how useful) aren’t motivated by faith, they will be fruitless.

So often I parent by fear rather than faith. It looks like this: Fear motivation: When I notice a sin pattern emerge in one of my children I fear that if I don't get it "under control" now they will be derailed for life. Faith motivation: When I notice a sin pattern emerge in one of my children I am in awe that God would see fit to reveal to me where He is at work in my child's life, and invite me to be an instrument of change on their behalf. Fear: I look at the world around me and fear for my boys because the society is so sexually charged; and fear for my daughter because feminism is everywhere! Faith: I look at the world around me and thank God that He has seen fit to provide outstanding teaching about lust, as well as the roles of biblical manhood and womanhood. By faith I can teach them these things and believe that they will be a light in the darkness. Fear: I panic that my sins against my children will damage them forever. Faith: I believe that God is so amazingly redemptive, that somehow He is able to use even my shortcomings in the lives of my children for His glory. Fear: I read a parenting book and think to myself, "we are all doomed because I will never be able to implement all of this stuff!" Faith: I read a parenting book and think, "yes, I am weak...but He is strong, and His power is perfected in my weakness!" God, as I parent these precious children that you have blessed me with, help me to do so by faith in You, and not by faith in my own abilities. If the success of parenting rested on me, there would be much reason to fear. However, Your character, Your promises, Your sovereignty, and Your faithfulness I have seen over and over in Your Word, in my life, and in the lives of each of my children therefore my heart is at peace and full of joyful anticipation for what You are doing and will do in my family.

Quotable Kiddos: King Size Beds

Yesterday Joshua informed me that when he grows up he is going to have two king-sized beds in his room. One for him, and one for his wife.

Quotable Kiddos: at play

Here is the kids' congregation when they played church the other week. The stage from which they preached was the landing between the stairs on the way to the basement. Very cute and ecclectic group, just like Chesapeake. This reminds me of a new thing I'm doing that I'll pass on for your consideration. When the kids spend a lot of time setting something up, I always dread making them clean up their "hard work". Cleaning up is inevitable, however, due to the meetings we host, etc. In effort to honor their creativity and hardwork, even though I was making them put it away, I started taking pictures of their cities, villages, traintracks, battle scenes, tea parties etc. and downloading them into my photo slideshow (which is my screen saver), so now they enjoy them weeks later. Here are a couple of the photos. (Posted because they get a kick out of seeing their stuff on the blog - sounds familiar). I wish I could claim this a kinesthetic homeschool project (I am teaching Maggie to write her name), but she came up with this one herself. This is Caleb's pioneer village.

Shower of Encouragement

Briana said it best when she called last night a "shower of encouragement" for my sister-in-law, and dear friend, Emily Clancy. She continued the analogy by saying something to the effect that we have baby showers. We have bridal showers (check this one out...too cute!). These are events where we do more than show these gals how much we love them. We actually are equipping them for the major ministries of their lives. We are endowing them with the tools of the trade, so to speak. Some things are used right away. Others are put away until later. Last night, we showered Emily with scripture, evidences of grace, comfort, and inspiration. Emily was diagnosed with MS back in April of 2005. She describes the initial season of diagnosis as one where God just amazingly carried her in a grace that protected her from feeling anxious or fearful or angry. Back in December, she had her first major flare, and said she felt like God put her feet on the ground and said, "walk". It has been a very hard season. Along with the reality of physical discomfort has come the introduction of the treatment with daily injections and minor (thank you God) side-affects. Emily is grateful that she is very functional. You truly wouldn't know anything was wrong to look at her. She is one of the most energetic wives and mothers I know. But with a 3 year old and an almost 1 year old, she has the normal demands and stresses in addition to this disease. I will say as one who has the privilege of walking close to Emily through this, that she is doing amazingly well. Her focus is on God, and she is surrendering daily to the idea that this disease comes from His loving hands. Truly amazing! Heather, her friend of many years, decided to gather Emily's closest friends together to have a time of encouragement and prayer over her. We were asked to bring verses and something to share with Emily. These were our shower gifts and even though they would be "opened" all at once, our prayer is that they will prove useful in the times to come. The night was full of tears, love, and encouragement. This was a precious time. Besides the obvious beauty of seeing the body of Christ at work being His hands, His eyes, His heart for Emily was the fact that God used normal tired moms. It was almost comical to watch each young mom walk in with that all too familiar glazed over look on her face. The hostess, three months pregnant, has cared for her toddler round the clock while her husband worked out of town for four days. Briana, married to a CPA has the challenge of grueling tax season hours, meaning she cares for her toddler twins all day sometimes all night and even on Saturday morning if need be. One girl walked in and told us her two year old was trying to give up his nap...you know how hard that can be if you've ever had a napless two year old. Another girl described her day as a "how many times can mommy sin against the kids?" day. What we all realized, and what I am carrying with me today in my heart, is that in His wisdom and kindness God's plan for a group of young moms who had given and given and given all day, was to come and give one more time to their dear friend, Emily. Rather than be empty, we found ourselves full. Full of encouragement. Full of grace. Try having an encouragement shower sometime. If you have a friend who is going through something hard, rally around her. It was such a blessing for all of us, and I know it will be monument in Emily's heart and mind of the love and care of the Savior through his people... in this case, a group of tired young moms.

Lessons From the Olympics

I am not an athelete. I can definitely relate to this. Somehow in His divine will, and perhaps sense of humor, God has chosen to make me the wife of a sports fanatic who is discipling my three sons, and yes, my daughter as well, in his love for all things athletic. One of my earnest prayer requests is that I will learn to watch sports, understand them, and even enjoy them someday. As much as I don't understand the fascination with sports, I do find the olympics fascinating. (Maybe because it comes in the do-able doses of every 2/4 years). Anyway, I am learning a few things through the olympics this year, and I thought I'd share my pearls of wisdom. 1. Be discerning in which events you allow your children to watch if they tend to do things like this. I had a brief moment of panic as my sons watched the skiers who seem to fly off of the ramp. Visions of how they were going to re-create this flashed through my mind, and I found myself saying things like, "but we don't do this off of the steps, right?" "We need to remember that these men have spent years training...in the snow... on a mountain...etc." 2. My husband is an amazing sports efficianato. Now, I am used to hearing my husband say things while watching football, that the commentators repeat verbatim. I was impressed with the fact that he noticed so much detail, and could beat them to the punch, so to speak. Imagine how surprised I was, though, to hear him looking at speed skating, downhill skiing, bobsledding, and hear him say things like, "oh man, he really slowed down on that last turn." I'm thinking to myself, "he looked like he was going pretty fast to me..." Then the commentator says, "he really slowed down on that last turn." Over and over Jason is making comments about triple lutz's and some thing called skeleton (?), and he is right every time. I don't understand, but I have a whole new respect for his uncanny knack at observing sports with such discernment. 3. Olympians are hard core, and I am a ninny. Some lady from some place won a gold on some type of skiing event while she was experiencing flu symptoms...including a fever and body aches. Other people ski with broken ribs. And every single athelete is there because he or she worked grueling hours in preparation and training. I was truly convicted when I considered how "soft" I am about pushing my body, or my brain to do anything difficult. This morning, after I had already started composing this post in my mind I found in my daily reading the following verse: 1 Cor. 9:25-27 25 Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. 26 So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. 27 But I discipline my body and keep it under control, [1] lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified. How kind of God to show me this verse when I have a visual image of the olympic atheletes in my mind. As I shared before, I often try to escape my life when it gets hard. Motherhood isn't a sprint, it is a long distance endurance race. I am weak and my stamina has been pitiful lately. But I have faith that God is going to help me to exercise self control, keep the imperishable prize ahead of me in view, and give me direction so that I'm not beating at the air. And to all of the other ladies out there running your endurance race, I'm cheering you on! Can you hear the great cloud of witnesses today as you tackle your own mountain...of laundry? Can you hear the applause as you gracefully execute your turn of the grocery cart with two or more kids in tow? Can you picture the gold of children whom you correct today for the twentieth time eventually running beside you, or even ahead of you, in the race? Go for the gold!!!

The Great Escape

My mom tells a funny story about my sister when she was little. Karyn, prone to drama, was frustrated after being corrected by my mom and decided to run away. She headed out of the house on her tricycle with only the bare necessities...her baby sister (me, standing on the back), and my diapers. She headed off up a huge hill pedalling feverishly. It was a futile escape. She eventually went back home to where people loved her, cared for her, provided for her, and protected her. It dawned on me at some point in my life as wife, mother, and homemaker, that I too try to escape at times. Rather than pick up and leave, I do something more socially acceptable. In the past some of my great escapes were t.v., sleep, shopping. More recently God is showing me that the internet is my vacation of choice. I love getting online and checking blogs, reading the latest and the greatest. It gets me out of my world for a little while. None of my escapes in and of themselves are wrong. In fact, each one could be a means of grace. But I am convicted lately about hopping on my tricycle of blogworld, and e-mail and running away from the life God has called me to. God's will for me as a woman, is safe. If I try to avoid disciplining my kids, or doing quality homeschooling. If I let the laundry pile up, or play, "tag, you're it" when Jason comes home. If I know there is something I could be doing, but have decided to click from blog to blog instead - it is like running away on a tricycle. God is so gracious to remind me to "come home". Yes, I'm here bodily, but is my heart here? God help me to know when I am escaping life on the tricycle of an acceptable activity. Help me to obey you and return to the beautiful life you've called me to as a woman.

For Entertainment

This was an impressive feat that took twenty minutes. Perhaps that is due to the fact that though they are twins, and the same height, Caleb outweighs Josh by ten pounds. Poor Josh kept getting smooshed by Caleb's weight.

Blog Merge

I have decided to merge my two blogs together on Ordinary Mother. I originally started Quotable Kids just for me because I didn't want to forget all of the funny and sweet things my children say and do. My family and some close friends started checking it, however, and I thought it'd make life easier to just have one place to check rather than two. I am just going to use friday on Ordinary Mother to feature my kids. They are far more entertaining than I am that is for sure.

My Favorite Love Story

Chapter One: My Single Dream Like any other young single woman, I had my "list" of characteristics for my future spouse. In slight departure from my girl-friends, my list had no requirements for physical appearance (he didn't have to be handsome), no requirements for personality (he didn't have to be funny), and no requirements for being romantic (he didn't have to bring me flowers or write poetry). In fact, there was only one major desire on this list: he had to be a pastor. In the invisible parenthesis after this "one" characteristic were that he must be a Sovereign Grace boy, he must want to church plant, and he must lead like my Dad. My mother asked me once if I cared whether or not he would actually cherish me. In my naivete I truly thought that this was unnecessary because the manly leader-type I was looking for would probably not be real mushy-gushy. You married ladies are probably laughing, and you single ladies are probably horrified. With the "musts" was one "must not". He must not be from Chesapeake. Now this needs a bit of explanation. First, there were no guys that seemed likely candidates for a spouse. The single men in our church were older...much older. The only one my age (and he was actually younger) was Jason Reyes, and he was out of the question (obviously more to come on this topic). Second, I wanted to go somewhere else. I had been in Maryland all my life, and sang wholeheartedly with Belle of Beauty and the Beast, "I want adventure in the great wide somewhere. I want it more than I can tell." I began to collect pictures and figurines of knights in shining armor, dreaming of being whisked away to somewhere other than here! Chapter Two: The death of a vision Somewhere during college I thought I found the guy who fit my list. When things didn't work out (he was not interested), I was devastated, not by him, but by death of a dream I had for being a pastor's wife. My mother walked me through this season of my life with much compassion and wisdom. After I graduated from college, I believed that I would either be married, or be a missionary somewhere. Instead, I was working at a Christian bookstore, and substitute teaching at a middle school. It was so confusing, and I remember many nights sitting on my bed with my mom just talking and crying and praying. I thought that if I honored God by not "dating" He would come through for me, and in my mind, He didn't. When I think back on my legalistic arrogance, thinking that my performance would result in God being obligated to bless me...I truly marvel at His mercy and patience. At the very core of my dreams for ministry, was not love for His glory, or even love for others...but love for my glory. We joined Sovereign Grace in 1985. I was fifteen, and from that point on the leaders of the movement had a movie-star like quality in my teenage mind. I glamorized the lives of the pastors and church planters. Seeing my Dad up close only convinced me more that I wanted to marry a pastor, like him. My mother was a compelling case for ministry as well. I wanted to do the hospitality like she did. I wanted women to look to me for wisdom and counsel, just like they did for her. It all seemed so wonderful because my parents have always loved ministry. Even when it was difficult, they never complained. So when I hit what felt like old maidhood a the ripe old age of twenty three, and there was nobody on the horizon, I was very depressed. I wish I could tell you that I reached a point where I became content with being single. I never did. By God's grace, I was able to serve in the local church in a variety of ways including leading a teenage girls' Bible study, playing keyboards on Sunday morning, and teaching at our church school. These things were very fulfilling, and I am so grateful for those unique years when I could really pour myself into the church. God also provided an accountability group that was very instrumental in helping me to be consistent in several of the spiritual disciplines. It was a season of growing in genuine love for the church. And slowly, I stopped dreaming of marrying a pastor. Whether that was a great spiritual accomplishment, or the work of my desire to be married, I can't say. All I know is that I eventually changed my list to be a man who loved God, loved the church, and could lead me. But whatever His means, God helped me to lay aside the ideal of marrying a pastor. Chapter three: The Boy Next Door Jason didn't literally live next door, but for a while he lived right down the street, and for years he lived in my neighborhood. We met when he was fifteen, and I was sixteen. A few "aw, isn't that sweet" things are that he still remembers what I was wearing the first time he saw me. He also kept ribbons that fell out of a hair comb I wore for my sister's wedding (we still hadn't really spoken to each other). I found them after we were married in a box with every letter I ever wrote to him. The short story about our early relationship is that we dated on and off for two years with much teenage drama. It was love or hate and nothing in between. Even though this was before anyone kissed dating goodbye, I still knew that the relationship was wrong, and had much guilt over it. We finally broke up for good, with the help of my parents, and I committed to not enter another dating relationship until marriage was an option. It took me years to get over Jason. Without going into unnecessary detail (why change now, Laurie, you're asking), Jason at one point, a couple years after our last break up asked me if I ever thought someday in the future I could see us being married. An odd question that had something to do with the fact that my attention had recently, after years, turned to another guy. But still, a shocking question, to which I answered, "God told me you were not the one." He was very upset. He always thought we would get married (I never knew he thought this). When I went inside, I cried and cried. After I told my mother about it she said, "Laurie, you don't know if God told you that or not. Why would you say it that way?" I was shocked. I thought my parents would be with me on the "no more Jason" bandwagon. But they were with me on the "no more men until it's the right time" bandwagon. Well, that conversation helped Jason to be completely free from me emotionally. Soon after he went to Knoxville. Chapter Four: Birth of a Vision You gals in Knoxville, if you've hung in here that long, were part of a crucial element in the story. In Knoxville, Jason joined Cornerstone Church, and began serving there in a way that he hadn't at Chesapeake. He really grew spiritually in this new environment and was thriving with godly friends, and regular meetings with one of the pastors. Once in a while Jason would call me from Tennessee and we would have great conversations. It was the only time we functioned as "just friends". I will say, however, that I was never indifferent enough to feel no pang of jealousy when he mentioned a girl he was interested in. Still, it was as neutral as we ever have been toward each other, and very strange to not love or hate as our custom was in the past. When Jason came home, I noticed his love for the church had grown. He served at Chesapeake with the youth (along with my dad and brother, Jimmy). He played drums on our worship team. But still, he was eager to get back to Knoxville. God had different plans. His money ran out, and he had to spend a year working as a car salesman here in Maryland. God used this season in many ways in Jason's life, but that's a different story. During the year Jason was working to save money for UT, I became close friends with his sister Emily. I spent much time at the Reyes house with her. It's funny to think back on how Jason would barely acknowledge me at his house. His parents were great. In fact, for all of the years Jason and I knew each other, his mother held to the conviction that I was going to be his wife. She never wavered in this...she's the only one who never wavered. Chapter Five: The Invisible Hand of Providence Jason was all set to go back to Knoxville when at the last minute, God intervened and his loan fell through. Miraculously, Towson University accepted his very late application to the education department. He was disappointed, but couldn't deny God's hand in the whole thing. Unbeknownst to me, my dad had been praying that God would bring my husband around before the end of the year. Jason's mom was praying that God would change our hearts toward each other. The Reyes' were coming over for Thanksgiving in 1994. (This was seven years after Jason and I first met.) All I remember is that Jason, Jimmy, Emily and I were playing cards and Jason was flirting with me. I kept thinking, "hey...It's me...Laurie...what are you doing?" Still, I liked it. Something in my heart started to change towards this guy that I thought God told me I would never marry. No, he wasn't a pastor, but he loved the Lord, he loved the church, and he was a leader. Besides, I knew him. I knew everything about him :good, bad, ugly. I watched him grow up right next to me, and rather than a prince sweeping me off of my feet to a far away land, I found comfort and charm in being with my old friend, the boy next door. In December, just in time to honor my dad's prayer, Jason took a huge risk and asked me if I would enter into courtship (I don't think we called it that) with him. He said he was nervous because of what I said years before, but took the risk anyway. His side of the story was that since that September when God closed the doors to go to back to Knoxville, God opened his eyes to see what was here in Maryland. It was like God put on a pair of glasses, and he could see qualities in me that he wanted in a wife. I wasn't the southern belle he was hoping for (I am the quintessential northeast girl), but ironically, I was born in Kentucky. Good enough. Chapter Six: Dream Come True From that first discussion about our relationship, we knew we would marry one another. On Valentines Day, just two months later, Jason proposed to me. We were married in August of '95. It all felt so normal, and almost matter of fact. It wasn't the whirlwind, or fireworks, or drama that I expected. But something about it was sweeter, and even more romantic in hindsight. Now, if you have hung in here this long and you're still reading, you are thinking, "Hey, you got what you wanted. You are a pastor's wife." When I married Jason, he was going to be an elementary school teacher. Now granted, he chose this major so that if he ever wanted to be on a church planting team, he could find work anywhere. Still, neither of us thought he would be a pastor. Jason finished his last year of school during the first year of marriage. I remember the time came for him to make a huge decision to either take one of three teaching positions offered to him, or work at the church school at Chesapeake. The church job didn't pay well, but we had a special government home-loan that adjusted to our income level, so it was possible to live on the low salary. He prayed, sought counsel, prayed more, and decided to work for the church as a middle school teacher. We were helping the pastor over the youth at the time as well. Over the course of a few years it became evident to the pastors that Jason had a call on his life for pastoral ministry. He began to oversee the youth ministry, and continue teaching in the school. Then through a series of events, needs arose that eventually led to his being the pastor of married life ministry (now called "adult life"). He was ordained in 2002, and continues to grow as a pastor under my dad's leadership. Truly the testimony of our marriage has been that God has given me what I did not deserve. He has given me more than I thought to dream of. Yes my husband is a pastor, and there is significant blessing in our lives because of this. But one thing I didn't think to hope for was being cherished. I am the most spoiled wife I know. There isn't a moment when I don't feel absolutely loved and cherished by this man. He is a joy to serve. He is easy to follow. Now, rather than dreaming of being a pastor's wife, I'm pursuing what other women, regardless of their husband's profession pursue, being a Proverbs 31 woman, and a Titus 2 lady. I want to be worthy of this man. Even more, I want to walk in a manner that's worthy of the gospel. Many times when we are sitting in bed at night, reading or talking, I will say, "Can you believe we married each other...and we have four kids in the other rooms sleeping?!" I look at my handsome man (who truly gets better looking with age) and think, "I am married to my dream man!"

One Man's Hill Is Another Man's Mountain

The boys spent two hours sledding down the front yard...their own little olympic event!

My Snow Angel

It was actually too deep for Maggie to make a good snow angel.

Manly Man

Jason was the first one in the family outside. He loves shoveling snow! What a handsome guy.

Snow Day Semi-live Blog: Some History

It began with my mother. She grew up in New Orleans and when she moved to Maryland the novelty of snow never faded. Every time it snowed she made chili and cornbread, and spent the day cooking, bundling us up, sending us out, baking cookies, warming us up with hot cocoa and warm cookies, drying our clothes, then beginning again from bundling us up. We stayed outside for hours...until we were numb. My family will remember a few of the following: snow mobiles with the Connellee's, Hanson Hill, K-Court snow ball battle, especially fun at night, and the snow fort in front of 1425. As much fun as snow days were as a child, I admit I like them even more as a mother. My mom showed me how to do a snow day, and I am happy to say that I made chili, bundled up the kiddos, played outside for a while, and now am ready to make cookies and get the hot cocoa ready. Here's a little bit of our world on a snow day.

Winter Wonderland

This is the scene we woke up to this morning. It reminded me of Isaiah 1:18 "Come, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins were like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool."

My Other Two Blessings

After posting the picture of Joshua and Caleb yesterday, I thought I'd show off my other two blessings. Is it me, or did these two get a little more of that beautiful latino blood from Daddy?

Grace Unmeasured

I am always amazed when I see clear evidence of the Holy Spirit at work in my children's hearts. This picture is a monument to grace. How aware I am that this has so little to do with me. Over and over again I see God taking what I have sown in pitiful measure, and causing it to multiply by His grace alone. And so many bad things I have sown (anger, impatience, laziness),yet He does not treat me as my sins deserve. My children have been with us in worship over the past month, and it has been helpful to see first hand how they worship in a corporate context. I asked my boys if they ever felt the desire to raise their hands in worship. Two said, "yes, really bad, but I'm afraid to." I remember this well from my own childhood. I have been praying for them, and giving them the "pep talk" about the ways we express worship to God, how He is worthy and to be feared more than man, etc. Well, last Sunday one of my boys raised his hands in worship. Now, being the gushy mom that I am I cried and cried. I was so grateful for God's work in this little boy's life. I am crying as I type. It is such undeserved favor. I'm overwhelmed. This was the song he was worshiping to: Grace Unmeasured Grace unmeasured, vast and free That knew me from eternity That called me out before my birth To bring You glory on this earth Grace amazing, pure and deep That saw me in my misery That took my curse and owned my blame So I could bear Your righteous name Chorus Grace paid for my sins And brought me to life Grace clothes me with power To do what is right Grace will lead me to heaven Where I’ll see Your face And never cease To thank You for Your grace Grace abounding, strong and true That makes me long to be like You That turns me from my selfish pride To love the cross on which You died Grace unending all my days You’ll give me strength to run this race And when my years on earth are through The praise will all belong to You Grace Unmeasured by Bob Kauflin © 2005 Sovereign Grace Praise (BMI) May the truth of these lyrics sink deeper and deeper into all of our hearts!