The Right Hill

“Woe to those who go down to [America] for help, who rely on horses, who trust in the multitude of their chariots and in the great strength of their horsemen, but do not look to the Holy One of Israel, or seek help from the LORD. Yet he too is wise and can bring disaster; he does not take back his words. He will rise up against the house of the wicked, against those who help evildoers. But the [Americans] are men and not God; their horses are flesh and not spirit. When the LORD stretches out his hand, he who helps will stumble, he who is helped will fall; both will perish together.”  (Isaiah 31:1–3, NIV 1984). 

My Musings – Overheard after last night’s Presidential debate, “is it clowns to the left, jokers to the right or the other away around?  Either way, I’m stuck in the middle.”  — Chris Wallace, Debate Moderator*

*Fake quote.

Stuck in the Middle With [the Blues]

Well I don’t know why I tuned in tonight
I got the feeling that something ain’t right
I’m so embarrassed that  I about fell off my chair
And I’m thinking we need to get on our knees in prayer
Clowns to the left of me
Jokers to the right, here I am
Stuck in the middle with the blues
Yes I’m stuck in the middle with the blues
Stuck in the middle with the blues, here I am stuck in the middle with the blues!

— with apologies to The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

Well, it very well may be the Presidential debate to end all Presidential debates.  Presidential — having a bearing or demeanor befitting a president; dignified and confident.  Yeah, right.  While we may have seen a lot of confidence (primarily bluster), there was very little that could be considered Presidential.  At one point, I commented to my wife, “the rest of the world may be watching this.  I am so embarrassed for our country.” 

Once considered a shining city on a hill that the free-world looked to, America has fallen in stature over the years, and last night’s debate did nothing to stop the slide.

“I have been guided by the standard John Winthrop set before his shipmates on the flagship Arabella (sic) three hundred and thirty-one years ago, as they, too, faced the task of building a new government on a perilous frontier. ‘We must always consider,’ he said, ‘that we shall be as a city upon a hill—the eyes of all people are upon us.’ Today the eyes of all people are truly upon us—and our governments, in every branch, at every level, national, state and local, must be as a city upon a hill—constructed and inhabited by men aware of their great trust and their great responsibilities.”  (President-elect John F. Kennedy, January 9, 1961).

My Musings – We are truly in need of men (and women) “aware of their great trust and great responsibilities.” But that will never be enough, because I think we have our eyes focused on the wrong hill.

The Old Rugged Cross

On a hill far away, stood an old rugged Cross
The emblem of suff’ring and shame
And I love that old Cross where the dearest and best
For a world of lost sinners was slain

So I’ll cherish the old rugged Cross
Till my trophies at last I lay down
I will cling to the old rugged Cross
And exchange it some day for a crown

Oh, that old rugged Cross so despised by the world
Has a wondrous attraction for me
For the dear Lamb of God, left his Glory above
To bear it to dark Calvary

So I’ll cherish the old rugged Cross
Till my trophies at last I lay down
I will cling to the old rugged Cross
And exchange it some day for a crown

In the old rugged Cross, stain’d with blood so divine
A wondrous beauty I see
For the dear Lamb of God, left his Glory above
To pardon and sanctify me

So I’ll cherish the old rugged Cross
Till my trophies at last I lay down
I will cling to the old rugged Cross
And exchange it some day for a crown

To the old rugged Cross, I will ever be true
Its shame and reproach gladly bear
Then He’ll call me some day to my home far away
Where his glory forever I’ll share

So I’ll cherish the old rugged Cross
Till my trophies at last I lay down
I will cling to the old rugged Cross
And exchange it some day for a crown

— George Bennard, 1913

 

Author: thebrewisamusing

I was raised in a Christian family and my earliest childhood memories include regular Sunday school and Church attendance as a family. I was taught that our Judeo-Christian values were not just a part of our Sunday routine they should be part of our character and influence all aspects of our lives. I was also taught that as important as these values were they could not save us. We must also be “born again” by accepting Christ.

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