For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. John 3:16





Welcome To My Christian Blog: The Upper Room


As I departed from the plane and walked down the steps of the aircraft to the tarmac, I experienced a "rush" unlike any feeling I have ever had in my life. I knew that I was in a very special place, but little did I know that this experience would change my life forever. It was Tel Aviv, Israel in 1989, and I was beginning to embark on an adventure that I would hold near and dear to me for the rest of my life. Destination Jerusalem!

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: THEY SHALL PROSPER THAT LOVE THEE. Psalms 122:6

I will endeavor to share many reflections and highlights of my journeys to the Holy Land in the 1980's and 1990's on this Blog while at the same time, sharing and conveying some inspirational stories, quotes, biblical verses, and insights from my Christian vantage point. I am a Born Again Christian, although I do not espouse to, or embrace any one particular Christian denomination, nor do I oppose any particlular Christian denomination. I believe in The Father, The Son, Jesus Christ, and The Holy Spirit, and have always accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. I recognize the Jewishness of Jesus (Yeshua, the Jewish name for Jesus), and as a Christian I cherish my Jewish heritage. I pray that others will be blessed by reading this Christian Blog, and with the hopes that many will come to accept Yeshua as their personal Lord and Savior.

What Is The Upper Room Exactly?


Traditionally Cenacle (from Latin cenaculum) is the term for the Upper Room, or the site of The Last Supper. This word is a derivative of the Latin word "cena," which means dinner. Some Christians believe it lies in the second floor of a building on Mount Zion, in Jerusalem, just outside the Dormition Church behind the Franciscan house on Sion, and south of the Zion Gate in the Old City walls. In the basement of the building is what is supposed by Jewish leaders as King David's Tomb, although the Bible says David was buried in the city of David, which is south of Mount Moriah. In Christian tradition, this was the site where the Holy Spirit descended upon the disciples of Jesus on the day of Pentecost. The building was spared during the destruction of Jerusalem under Titus (AD 70) and became the site of the first Christian church. It was later destroyed by Persian invaders and rebuilt by a monk called Modestus. During the Crusades, the building was razed to the ground by Muslims and replaced by the Crusaders with a basilica. Franciscan monks cared for the Cenacle from 1333 to 1552 when the Turks captured Jerusalem and banished all Christians. After the Franciscan friars' eviction, this room was transformed into a mosque, as evidenced by the mihrab in the direction of Mecca and an Arabic inscription prohibiting public prayer at the site. Christians were not allowed to return until the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948.

I have decided to call this Blog "The Upper Room", as my personal and spiritual experiences and enlightenments in Jerusalem's Upper Room have inspired me to finally commence writing a Christian Blog. I hope and pray that you will find some peace and solice here.

Peace To All Who Enter The Upper Room

Patricia

The Upper Room In Jerusalem

The Upper Room In Jerusalem

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

The Sparrow At Starbucks



The Sparrow at Starbucks


The song that silenced the cappuccino machine


by John Thomas Oaks


It was chilly in Manhattan but warm inside the Starbucks shop on 51st Street and Broadway, just a skip up from Times Square. Early November weather in New York City holds only the slightest hint of the bitter chill of late December and January, but it's enough to send the masses crowding indoors to vie for available space and warmth.
For a musician, it's the most lucrative Starbucks location in the world, I'm told, and consequently, the tips can be substantial if you play your tunes right. Apparently, we were striking all the right chords that night, because our basket was almost overflowing.
It was a fun, low-pressure gig—I was playing keyboard and singing backup for my friend who also added rhythm with an arsenal of percussion instruments. We mostly did pop songs from the '40s to the '90s with a few original tunes thrown in. During our emotional rendition of the classic, "If You Don't Know Me by Now," I noticed a lady sitting in one of the lounge chairs across from me. She was swaying to the beat and singing along.
After the tune was over, she approached me. "I apologize for singing along on that song. Did it bother you?" she asked.
"No," I replied. "We love it when the audience joins in. Would you like to sing up front on the next selection?"
To my delight, she accepted my invitation.
"You choose," I said. "What are you in the mood to sing?"
"Well. … do you know any hymns?"
Hymns? This woman didn't know who she was dealing with. I cut my teeth on hymns. Before I was even born, I was going to church. I gave our guest singer a knowing look. "Name one."
"Oh, I don't know. There are so many good ones. You pick one."
"Okay," I replied. "How about 'His Eye is on the Sparrow'?"
My new friend was silent, her eyes averted. Then she fixed her eyes on mine again and said, "Yeah. Let's do that one."
She slowly nodded her head, put down her purse, straightened her jacket and faced the center of the shop. With my two-bar setup, she began to sing.
Why should I be discouraged?Why should the shadows come?
The audience of coffee drinkers was transfixed. Even the gurgling noises of the cappuccino machine ceased as the employees stopped what they were doing to listen. The song rose to its conclusion.
I sing because I'm happy;I sing because I'm free.For His eye is on the sparrowAnd I know He watches me.Holy momentWhen the last note was sung, the applause crescendoed to a deafening roar that would have rivaled a sold-out crowd at Carnegie Hall. Embarrassed, the woman tried to shout over the din, "Oh, y'all go back to your coffee! I didn't come in here to do a concert! I just came in here to get somethin' to drink, just like you!"
But the ovation continued. I embraced my new friend. "You, my dear, have made my whole year! That was beautiful!"
"Well, it's funny that you picked that particular hymn," she said.
"Why is that?"
"Well . …" she hesitated again, "that was my daughter's favorite song."
"Really!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," she said, and then grabbed my hands. By this time, the applause had subsided and it was business as usual. "She was 16. She died of a brain tumor last week."
I said the first thing that found its way through my stunned silence.
"Are you going to be okay?"
She smiled through tear-filled eyes and squeezed my hands. "I'm gonna be okay. I've just got to keep trusting the Lord and singing his songs, and everything's gonna be just fine."
She picked up her bag, gave me her card, and then she was gone.
Was it just a coincidence that we happened to be singing in that particular coffee shop on that particular November night? Coincidence that this wonderful lady just happened to walk into that particular shop? Coincidence that of all the hymns to choose from, I just happened to pick the very hymn that was the favorite of her daughter, who had died just the week before? I refuse to believe it.
God has been arranging encounters in human history since the beginning of time, and it's no stretch for me to imagine that he could reach into a coffee shop in midtown Manhattan and turn an ordinary gig into a revival. It was a great reminder that if we keep trusting him and singing his songs, everything's gonna be okay.


Peace

Patricia

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