In Memory, Fifteen Years Later

Fifteen years ago today, November 22, 2002, Frank P. Nickel was promoted to glory. I woke with this song on my mind. In it, he reminds us that heaven is our true country of citizenship. I like to think of Dad perhaps collaborating with King David to compose and sing new songs of praise to our God. I don't know if that sort of thing happens in heaven, but I'm guessing we'll be using our God-given creativity in some fulfilling, joy-filled manner. It boggles the mind.

We sang this song often during the later years of our family ministry, and I've already posted it twice in this blog project. Yet as I meditate on these words, inspired by Psalm 103:2, it seems fitting to share them again, this time courtesy of a video taken during the memorial service for our brother, Bob, this past July. Not our finest moment, musically or emotionally, as you can understand, but it is a tender mercy that we can be together and remember our beloved ones who have gone before, and realize they are in that place where God wipes all tears from their eyes, and there will be no more sadness. Please enjoy the video and the lyrics below.


Forget not all His benefits, my soul, bless thou the Lord.
Review His tender mercies and the comfort of His word.
Remember well the greatest of the gifts that He has given:
Eternal life through Christ our Lord and citizenship in heaven.

Forget not all His benefits, for friends and loved ones dear;
For those who share our joys with us, who in our grief stand near.
Thank God for courage and for strength when past endurance driven.
Yet keep in mind that gift supreme: your citizenship in heaven.

Forget not all His benefits within the walls called home.
For peace and for protection as the paths of life we roam.
For healing of these bodies and for sins, now all forgiven.
For hope beyond this vale of tears and citizenship in heaven.

Refrain:
Oh bless the Lord for Jesus' blood and for his side once riven
Eternal life through Christ is mine, and citizenship in heaven.

fpn/undated

Originally posted Jan. 25, 2014 and May 5, 2017
Video credit: Jay Holden, via Facebook Live, July 19, 2017
Contact Joyce if you would like a copy of the printed music.

Oh Precious Mystery

Oh, precious mystery, that my Creator
Who fills the universe, earth, sea, and sky,
came to be born within a lowly stable;
on manger bed, in swaddling clothes did lie.

Oh, precious mystery, what matchless glory
and boundless wealth Christ Jesus left behind.
Though He was rich beyond all comprehension,
bore pain and poverty with lowly mind.

Oh, precious mystery, with life eternal,
He tasted death on earth for you and me.
Though He was buried, yet He rose triumphant,
and lives today to set sin’s captives free.

Refrain:
Oh, precious mystery, the High and Holy
Who fills the universe, earth, sea, and sky.
The great I AM, who spoke the worlds to being,
for me He came, to suffer and to die.

fpn/1963

Published in Contemporary Psalms, p. 8 and as song #13 in Sing and Give Thanks.
Recorded on LP 263: Love is Why, side one. For a copy of the music, contact Joyce.


Picture: sourced online, October 15, 2017

Facing the Final Day (Planning Your Funeral)

Have you thought about your funeral?
Have you plans for that great day?
To the ones you leave behind you, 
is there something you would say?

Seems to me you’ve got an option
which you can’t afford to miss;
mingling with the tears of loved ones,
feelings of eternal bliss.

When you know where you are going,
and aware of what you’ll find,
making plans for your own funeral
won’t disturb your peace of mind.

There are different kinds of funerals,
most of them are not too long.
Surely you could make suggestions
as to sermon and a song.

If you’ve lived a life with purpose,
surely some advice you’d give
to the ones who still are traveling,
as to how it pays to live.

There will come that golden moment,
you can really make it count,
if you dearly love your Savior
and you’ve been to Calvary’s mount.

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder
why some Christians seem to shun
any reference to their funeral,
when they know it’s going to come.

Some have gained a modest fortune
by their diligence, but still,
when the Reaper comes to claim them,
haven’t even made a will.

That’s not being realistic,
for your life’s a sacred trust;
God has made of you His steward,
careful planning is a must.

Those who share abundant living
as they dwell upon this sod
love to think about the future
and the glories of our God.

If you’ve lived a life with purpose
surely some advice you’d give
to the ones who still are traveling
as to how it pays to live.

If you’re really bound for heaven
and you’ve laid up treasures there,
you’ll rejoice to go and claim them
as you leave this world of care.

While you’re here, you have the privilege
to decide a thing or two;
as you plan for your own funeral,
make sure Christ is seen in you.

fpn/undated

Published as poem #42 in Contemporary Psalms.

Picture: depositphotos.com #27072651, standard license

Our Rest in God

"Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices;
my body also will rest secure..." Psalm 16:9

Oh, love of God mysterious,
sustaining in our loss,
our spirits and our souls so wrenched 
when we recall the cross.

When hopes are dashed and comforts flee
we rush into the arms
of Love omniscient, strong and pure
for refuge from alarms.

We need not understand it all
just now, but we are sure
one day we will, and until then
God’s grace will yet endure.

Now we may share the tears of those
who paths of grief have trod;
since we have hope beyond the grave,
we find our rest in God!

fpn / December 1980

Dying Grace

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. Phil. 1:21

We sing about the joys of heaven
and how we long to go;
and understandably, we add,
“Some day—but not just now!”

We’ll spend our utmost, Satan said,
to live—yes, so it seems,
and heaven can wait, which we confess,
exceeds our wildest dreams! 

Within the providence of God
there comes a time to die;
why then should we, who know the Lord, 
so reluctantly comply?

We testify that Jesus is
our best friend, true and tried;
but mesmerized by this world’s charms,
forget we are His bride!

“O grave, where is thy victory?
O death, where is thy sting?”
Is this to us mere rhetoric—
words with a hollow ring?

“But I’m still needed in this world!”
Perhaps—to ease some woe,
but when our Lord says, “That’s enough,”
we should be glad to go.

And thanks to God, life can be good;
His grace we may employ;
if we commune with Him each day,
we’ll know His peace and joy.

“My times are in Thy hand,” dear Lord—
alike, in joy or pain;
and so, “For me to live is Christ—
to die—eternal gain!”

fpn /1995


Picture: depositphotos.com #15816415, standard license

Home is Where the Heart Is

This is a tribute to our departed mother, but when Dad first wrote this poem before her death, it was for a brother's passing. He intended that the names or pronouns in the last verse be substituted to give tribute to any loved one who is "promoted to glory." We have included it today since Mom passed away 21 years ago, on Mother's Day, May 12, 1996.









Home is where the heart is,
we sometimes hear it said;
the place where we expect to find
a roof, a meal, a bed.
But there is more—a motel too
or even barracks may
accommodate our body’s needs
and serve quite comfortably.

Our hearts are not content until
some loved ones share our lot
and we commune in deeds and words—
yes, suffering, like as not.
It’s in living for each other
that our souls are gratified
and if we’d have a super home
then Christ must there abide.

How soon things change. Our loved ones go
and leave an empty place.
Then heaven’s attaction on us grows,
that new home beyond space.
Where separations cannot mar
our glad and peaceful state.
Where toil and tears and pain are past
and glorious joys await.

Our mother has gone home and we
will follow her ere long.
She’ll greet us on the other side
where we’ll unite in song
of praise to Him who died, arose,
has gone a place to prepare.
We’re going home, where our heart is,
rich fellowship to share!

fpn / 91

Reasonable Service

Reasonable Service

When I think of Him suffering for me
in the dark night of Gethsemane,
then the thorn-crown, the nails, the spear
and His prayer, “Oh, forgive them,” I hear.
Consenting to die in my place,
assuming my sin and disgrace,
then I cannot—I will not lay claim
to the years of my life that remain.
I will serve, not by notion or whim,
but with purpose, resign all to Him!

fpn / undated



Photo Credit: Deposit Photos #67483285, standard license

The Hope of Rising Again

The Hope of Rising Again
John 14:19

The hope of rising again
gives meaning and purpose to life;
for sorrow and heartache untold
are widespread in this world of strife.

Life seems like a tunnel at times;
it appears we will never get out.
We’re depressed—our hearts fill with fear;
it’s hard not to worry or doubt.

The one thought that helps us endure
is knowing that this too shall pass;
but that’s not enough—we need hope
that a new day will soon dawn at last.

There is no denying that death
now poses an unwelcome fate;
so final—and mysteries abound
past the veil of our present estate.

True facts about what lies ahead
are discovered alone in God’s word;
yet many prefer in its stead
speculation so wild and absurd.

This life is much more than a game;
there are destinies we will achieve,
and there need be no losers at all—
the condition is that we believe.

By faith, we can claim for ourselves
a future of glory and peace;
Christ lives and yes, “we too shall live”
in His kingdom which never shall cease.

fpn 3/86

Photo Credit: Deposit Photo #12293387, standard license

The Resurrection Day

Christ arose, no more to die

and His own to justify

in the dawning of that great

and glorious day;

when an angel from on high –

swift as lightening from the sky –

overwhelmed the guards

and rolled the stone away.

He arose, our blessed Lord,

in fulfillment of His word;

wondrous message, let us

evermore proclaim!

Where, oh death, is now thy sting,

and oh grave, thy victory?

We shall rise, for Christ arose,

Oh, praise His name!

On that resurrection day

when the shadows flee away

and the trumpet of the Lord

shall pierce the air,

what rejoicing there will be

when our Saviour we shall see

and with loved ones,

His eternal glory share!

Sweetest message, wondrous grace,

to the sons of Adam’s race;

“He is risen; come and see

where Jesus lay.”

Though death hovered o’er your head,

you are justified instead

from the guilt and debt

which none could ever pay.

There is life for you and me

by a look at Calvary;

there is pardon, peace

and cleansing through His blood.

Yes, we claim an empty tomb

and the future holds no gloom;

we shall rise, for Christ arose,

the Son of God!

On that resurrection day

when the shadows flee away

and the trumpet of the Lord

shall pierce the air,

what rejoicing there will be

when our Saviour we shall see

and with loved ones,

His eternal glory share!

fpn / undated

Published as poem #14 in Contemporary Psalms and as song #10 in Sing and Give Thanks
Contact Joyce if you would like a copy of the sheet music.

Photo Credit: Deposit Photos #66235719, Standard License

The Case of Locked Horns

You've heard of two dogs as they tangled one day;
while the third took the bone and with ease ran away.
The lesson is simple, but quickly we state,
to the dogs that were fighting, the loss was not great.
For dog fights are common and seldom 'tis said,
that they fight to the finish, leaving one or both dead.

A more tragic lesson from nature is born
in the wilds of the mountain, 'tis the deer with locked horn.
While the cause of the conflict may justified be,
still, subduing the other, himself he can't free.
Human hands might have helped had they chanced to be near,
to rescue from death at least one of the deer.

Both deer may regret that they started to fight,
but together, they die with antlers locked tight.
As with deer, so with man, in his passionate stress,
"Horns" are locked, often times, and there seems no regress.
Both fear and distrust may smolder and burn,
as souls in despair for deliverance yearn.

Disentangling horns calls for strength and for skill,
yet for all there is hope: look to Calvary's hill
where Jesus was slain in His effort to save
the souls of rebellious men from the grave.
He has wounds that were caused by the weight of our sin
and the full price was paid that our souls He might win.

fpn/undated



Published as poem #26 in Contemporary Psalms
Photo credit: Depositphotos 12781940, Standard license