Category: reflections

Amy Elizabeth Blundell

Amy Blundell
Amy Blundell

BLUNDELL, AMY ELIZABETH, 24, went to be with her Lord and Savior, Monday, March 21st at Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas after a month of complications.

Amy was born in Dallas, December 22, 1980, to Fred and Margery Blundell.

She graduated from Poteet High School, Mesquite, in 1999, and also graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Nursing from The University of Mary-Hardin Baylor in 2003, and was awarded the Golden Cross Award, awarded to the nursing student displaying a “Christian Attitude” in all he or she does.

Amy returned to Dallas after graduation and worked as a Labor and Delivery Nurse at Presbyterian Hospital until her death.

Amy was an active member of Metropolitan Bible Church in Dallas, where she worked with AWANAS and taught Sunday School.

She also participated in the Bible Study Fellowship International and served as a camp counselor at Hidden Acres Retreat Center in Kaufman for several years.

She served for a month with The Evangelical Alliance Missions in Germany teaching English as a Second Language to German students.

She also volunteered at the Downtown Pregnancy Center in Dallas.

On December 28, 2004, Amy was engaged to Matthew Lehmann of Dallas, the two were to be married in May.

She was preceded in death by her grandparents, John E. and Rosemarie Blundell.

Amy is survived by her parents, Fred and Margery Blundell of Mesquite; her older brother, Jonathan Blundell of Belton; her younger sister, Kara Blundell of Mesquite; her fiance’, Matt Lehmann of Dallas; her grandparents, Deryl and Oleta Knotts of Dallas and numerous aunts, uncles and cousins.

Visitation will be 6:00 to 8:00pm Friday, March 25, 2005, at Grove Hill Funeral Home. Funeral services will be 10:00am Saturday, March 26th at Lake Ridge Bible Church in Mesquite, with Rev. Charles R. Diffee officiating.

Interment will follow at Grove Hill Memorial Park.

Memorials may be made to The Downtown Pregnancy Center, 1707 San Jacinto St, Dallas, TX 75201. Dignity Memorial Grove Hill 3920 Samuell Blvd. Dallas (214) 388-8887

Published in the Dallas Morning News on 3/25/2005.

This week’s column: An unlikely source

Adolphe Charles Adam was born July 24, 1803. He was born in France, the son of a Jewish music professor at the Conservatoire.

His mother was the daughter of a notable physician.

Adam began to study music but preferred improvising as he went, rather than studying specific pieces or composers.

By the time he was 20 he was writing songs for Paris vaudeville houses.

By 1830 he had completed 28 works for the theater.

Adam is probably best known for his work in authoring the ballet Giselle. He wrote a number of other ballets and nearly 40 operas before his death.

In 1847 he opened the third opera house in Paris, The Theatre National, after feuding with the owner of The Opera, another opera house in the city.

The Revolution of 1848 closed The Theatre National and left Adam with overwhelming debt.

He briefly turned to journalism but settled on teaching composition at the Paris Conservatoire from 1849 till his death in 1856.

Placide Cappeaua was born in Roquemaure, France, north of Avignon in 1808.

Cappeaua was a wine seller and an occasional writer.

Although Cappeaua was not a regular at church, yet a parish priest knew of his writing abilities and asked him to pen a poem about Christmas in 1847.

On his way to Paris, Cappeaua, inspired by the Gospel of Luke, wrote “Minuit, Chretiens.”

Once in Paris, Cappeaua met Adam and asked him to pen music for the Christmas poem.

Three days later, Adam wrote the tune and “Cantique de Noël” was premiered at midnight mass on Christmas Eve, 1847 in Roquremaure.

Not long after its debut, the song began to receive attacks from church leaders in France.

Cappeaua later left the church to join the socialist movement and adopted the more “extreme” political and social ideas of his day – such as opposition to slavery, inequality, injustice and other kinds of oppression.

It was also discovered that Adam was in fact Jewish and his reputation of composing ballets and operas was deemed incompatible with the composition of Christian songs.

The song was attacked not for the nature or subject of the song, but because of who wrote the song.

One French bishop denounced the song for its “lack of musical taste and total absence of the spirit of religion.”

But despite being shunned from the church, the song lived on in the homes and hearts of the French.

And in 1855, American Unitarian minister John Sullivan Dwight published an English translation to the song, “O Holy Night.”

Dwights’ strong anti-slavery views shown through in his translation with the lyrics: “Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother, And in His name all oppression shall cease.”

And so today, we sing — a Christmas song, shunned by the church, written by a French Socialist and a Jewish composer, translated by a Unitarian minister and written about a holy night when God became man to save us all from the oppression of sin.

—

Not only was “O Holy Night” composed by a Jewish composer, but a number of other Christmas songs were written or composed by Jews.

“White Christmas” was written by Irving Berlin.
“You’re A Mean One, Mr. Grinch” was written by Albert Hague.
“We Need a Little Christmas” was written by Jerry Herman.
“Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” and “A Holly Jolly Christmas” were written by Johhny Marks.
“The Christmas Walz” and “Let it Snow, Let is Snow, Let it Snow” was written by Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne.
“Silver Bells” was written by Ray Evans and Jay Livingston.
“I’m Getting’ Nuttin’ for Christmas” was written by Barry Gordo

This week’s column: Returning home

It’s been five-years, but I’ve finally made my return to the Mega-Plex.

I was born in Dallas, raised in Dallas and graduated in Mesquite.

During college I moved to central Texas and Belton where I swore it would be a long time before I would ever consider returning to the Big-D.

But paths, passions and feelings can change quickly – sometimes overnight.

And now that I’ve moved back, I’ve moved in with my parents for a few weeks until final contracts are signed on my house.

A lot has changed in five years.

As I moved back into my old bedroom, which was painted lavender several years ago, I reflected on yester-year.

My first memory of our house in Mesquite was slightly traumatic.

We moved from 8751 Milverton in Dallas to Mesquite at the end of my freshman year.

Shortly after we moved I decided it was time to put my waterbed back together and began the process of filling the large mattress.

But watching a waterbed fill with water is about as exciting as watching an Austin College or McMurry University football game.

So I left my room and went outside to play football with my sisters.

Naturally football took precedence and it was several hours before I returned inside.

In the span of several hours, the hose filling my waterbed had popped lose from its connection and filled the entire end of the house with 1/2-an-inch of water.

Needless to say, my mom wasn’t too happy – until she found out she would be able to re-carpet the entire house for a small insurance deductible.

Now, more than 10 years later, my mom is ready to re-carpet the house, but unfortunately the waterbed is long gone.

As I look back and reflect, I remember the last time I lived at home with my family.

August 2000.

At the time I was 21 and ready to move to University of Mary Hardin-Baylor.

My sisters Amy and Kara were in the room next door.

I remember randomly running into their room while they tried to sleep and jumping on top of both of them. I also had a “bad habit” of pulling off their covers while they tried to sleep.

But that last night I lived at home I remember I couldn’t sleep.

I was so anxious to head to college.

Then in 2003 when I finally finished school, I was so independent I wasn’t going to move back home. I wasn’t about to “bum off my parents”, I was going to make it on my own.

But last night I started thinking about all the “what-ifs.”

What if I had moved back home when I graduated?

I would have been able to spend more time with my family, including my sister Amy who left us at the age of 24 in March.

I might have found a job working in radio in Dallas.

I might have found a job at a daily paper – much sooner than I did.

I’d probably have less debt.

I wouldn’t have my dogs, Payton and Precious.

I wouldn’t have gotten to know David Tuma at all.

I wouldn’t have gotten to know Berneta Peeples at all.

I probably wouldn’t be best of friends with Allman — my former landlord and fellow West Wing nut and wrestling fanatic.

I probably wouldn’t be involved with Christian Wrestling Federation.

I probably would have never joined the Lions Club – at least not until I had many more gray hairs.

I probably would have never learned all I did about running a weekly newspaper.

I would have been able to see more of Amy while she was sick and in the hospital.

And the list goes on and on…

Some regrets, some blessings, but “what-ifs” never really get you anywhere.

So I’m going to stop and look to what’s ahead instead.

I may have an imperfect past – but I have a spotless future.

So let’s see where I go from here.

“But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” – Phil. 3:13b-15

Still looking…

11/365

Well, I feel like a slacker, but I’m still looking for a new church home after I resigned in late May from my position on IBC staff.

I visited Taylor’s Valley Baptist today. I enjoyed it. It was a nice service with a mix of hymns and newer praise songs. And they still had an organ. Props to them.

Bill Muske filled in this morning and did a great job preaching on prayer.

I hear their singles group is pretty good. And its mainly led by the singles (go figure – a Sunday School class led by the members in the class – wait am I being cynical). So maybe I’ll try and make it to Sunday School there after we get back from North Carolina, or I might try and go to their weekly Bible study tomorrow night.
We’ll see how work goes tomorrow.

Well, back to napping or reading the Morning News or whatever I was doin before I fell asleep.

This week’s column: Prayer in Schools

Ok — everyone take a deep breath. We’re about to touch on another very fun topic — prayer in schools.
I’ve been reading Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire by Jim Cymbala, pastor of Brooklyn Tabernacle.
While reading about prayer, which most of the book is about, a section struck me straight to the heart.
“What does it say about our churches today that God birthed the church in a prayer meeting, and prayer meetings today are almost extinct?
“Am I the only one who gets embarrassed when religious leaders in America talk about having prayer in public schools? We don’t have even that much prayer in many churches! Out of humility, you would think we would keep quiet on that particular subject until we practice what we preach in our own congregations.
“I am sure the Roman emperors didn’t have prayer to God in their schools. But then, the early Christians didn’t seem to care what Caligula or Claudius or Nero did. How could any emperor stop God? How, in fact, could the demons of hell make headway when God’s people prayed and called upon his name? Impossible!
“In the New Testament we don’t see Peter or John wringing their hands and saying, “Oh, what are we going to do? Caligula’s bisexual… he wants to appoint his horse to the Roman Senate… what a terrible model of leadership! How are we going to respond to this outrage?”
The lesson continues, but I’ll let you get your own copy of the book and read it for yourselves.
I’ve never been a fan of prayer in schools — not because I’m not a fan of prayer or don’t believe in it. I just don’t think it belongs in schools.
If Christians are allowed to have prayer in school, so are Islamics, Buddhists, and Wiccans.
Personally I don’t want a Wiccan teacher telling my future children how to pray.
They will learn to pray at home, and it won’t be up to a principal or teacher to tell them when they can or can’t pray.
They’ll know, just like I did growing up, that when you feel the need to pray – do it.
Don’t wait on a teacher or principal to give you permission or set aside a time to do so.

eveningstar@hot.rr.com

Another lazy Sunday

Well it’s been another lazy Sunday at Casa de Blundell Museum. We’ve had no visitors today, that we know of and its been a nice cool 78-degrees inside.

The museum curator overslept this morning, because he forgot to reset his alarm after sleeping-in yesterday.

Wow – two days in a row. That’s wonderful! Does anyone want to supplement my income so I can do this on a more regular basis. With enough regular donations I could quit my job and update my blog and work on my book all day long.

And with a little more income, I could renew my membership in the Belton Lion’s club so I can remain a functioning member of society.

Could it get any better?

Anyways, on to the entry at hand.

I’ve been reading Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire by Jim Cymbala, pastor of Brooklyn Tabernacle.

I’m not sure where I got the book from. I know it was bought at Mardels, but don’t remember if I bought it or someone bought it for me. If you bought it for me. Thanks. It’s a great read.

While reading about prayer, which most of the book is about, a section struck me straight to the heart.

What does it say about our churches today that God birthed the church in a prayer meeting, and prayer meetings today are almost extinct?
Am I the only one who gets embarrassed when religious leaders in America talk about having prayer in public schools? We don’t have even that much prayer in many churches! Out of humility, you would think we would keep quiet on that particular subject until we practice what we preach in our own congregations.
I am sure the Roman emperors didn’t have prayer to God in their schools. But then, the early Christians didn’t seem to care what Caligula or Claudius or Nero did. How could any emperor stop God? How, in fact, could the demons of hell make headway when God’s people prayed and called upon his name? Impossible!
In the New Testament we don’t see Peter or John wringing their hands and saying, “Oh, what are we going to do? Caligula’s bisexual… he wants to appoint his horse to the Roman Senate… what a terrible model of leadership! How are we going to respond to this outrage?”
Let’s not play games with ourselves. Let’s not divert attention away from the weak prayer life of our own churches. In Acts 4, when the apostles were unjustly arrested, imprisoned, and threatened, they didn’t call for a protest; they didn’t reach for some political leverage. Instead, they headed to a prayer meeting. Soon the place was vibrating with the power of the Holy Spirit.
The apostles had this instinct: When in trouble, pray. When intimated, pray. When challenged, pray. When persecuted, pray.

The lesson continues, but I’ll let you get your own copy of the book and read it for yourselves.

I’ve never been a fan of prayer in schools, simply because America is home to freedom of religion and free speech. If Christians are allowed to have prayer in school, so are Islamics, Buddhists, and Wicans.

Personally I don’t want a Wican teacher telling my future children how to pray.

They will learn to pray at home, and it won’t be up to a principal or teacher to tell them when they can or can’t pray.

They’ll know, just like I did growing up, that when you feel the need to pray – do it.

Don’t wait on a teacher or principal to give you permission or set aside a time to do so.

Well, back to my reading and hopefully writing. I need to update my book online or everyone will just stop reading it – and that’s no good at all.