O, Come Let Us Adore Him

Words of God to Moses about His Only Begotten:

“And I have a work for thee, Moses, my son; and thou art in the similitude of mine Only Begotten; and mine Only Begotten is and shall be the Savior, for he is full of grace and truth; but there is no God beside me, and all things are present with me, for I know them all . . .

And worlds without number have I created; and I also created them for mine own purpose; and by the Son I created them, which is mine Only Begotten . . .

For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.” (Moses 1:6, 33, 39)

A Prophecy of Moses, Which He Made to the Children of Israel:

“The LORD thy God will raise up unto thee a Prophet from the midst of thee, of thy brethren, like unto me; unto him ye shall hearken.” (Deuteronomy 18:15)

Carol: “Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful”

Oh, come, all ye faithful, Joyful and triumphant!

Oh, come ye, oh, come ye to Bethlehem.

Come and behold him, Born the King of angels;

Oh, come, let us adore him; Oh, come, let us adore him;

Oh, come, let us adore him, Christ, the Lord.

Sing, choirs of angels, Sing in exultation;

Sing, all ye citizens of heav’n above!

Glory to God, Glory in the highest;

Oh, come, let us adore him; Oh, come, let us adore him;

Oh, come, let us adore him, Christ, the Lord.

Yea, Lord, we greet thee, Born this happy morning;

Jesus, to thee be all glory giv’n.

Son of the Father, Now in flesh appearing;

Oh, come, let us adore him; Oh, come, let us adore him;

Oh, come, let us adore him, Christ, the Lord.

On the Symbolism of Christmas

“The Sixth Word” by Sherry Dillehay

Especially for Mormons, Vol. 2

Just a week before Christmas, I had a visitor. This is how it happened. I had just finished the household chores for the night and was preparing to go to bed when I heard a noise in the front of the house. I opened the door of the front room, and to my surprise, Santa Claus himself stepped out from behind the Christmas tree. He placed his fingers over his mouth so I would not cry out.

“What are you doing . . .?” I started to ask, but the words choked up in my throat as I saw he had tears in his eyes. His usual jolly manner was gone - gone was the eager, boisterous soul we all know.

He then answered me with a simple statement of “teach the children.” I was puzzled. What did he mean? He anticipated my question and with one quick movement brought forth a miniature toy bag from behind the tree.

As I stood there bewildered, Santa said again, “Teach the children.  Teach them the old meaning of Christmas - the meanings that Christmas nowadays has forgotten.”

I started to say, “How can I. . .” when Santa reached into the toy bag and pulled out a brilliant shiny star.

“Teach the children the star was the heavenly sign of promise long ages ago. God promised a savior for the world and the star was a sign of the fulfillment of that promise. The countless shining stars at night - one for each man - now show the burning hope of all mankind.”

Santa gently laid the star upon the fireplace mantle and drew forth from the bag a glittering red Christmas tree ornament.

“Teach the children red is the first color of Christmas. It was first used by the faithful people to remind them of the blood which was shed for all the people by the Savior. Christ gave His life and shed His blood that every man might have God’s gift of eternal life. Red is deep, intense, vivid - it is the greatest color of all. It is the symbol of the gift of God.”

“Teach the children,” he said as he dislodged a small Christmas tree from the depths of the toy bag. He placed it before the mantle and gently hung the red ornament on it. The deep green of the fir tree was a perfect background for the ornament. Here was the second color of Christmas.

“The pure green color of the stately fir tree remains green all year round,” he said. “This depicts the everlasting hope of mankind. Green is the youthful, hopeful, abundant color of nature. All the needles point heavenward - symbols of man’s returning thought toward heaven. The great green tree has been man’s best friend. It has sheltered him, warmed him, and made beauty for him.”

Suddenly, I heard a soft tinkling sound. “Teach the children that as the lost sheep are found by the sound of the bell it should ring for man to return to the fold - it means guidance and return. It further signifies that all are precious in the eyes of the Lord.

As the soft sound of the bell faded into the night, Santa drew forth a candle. He placed it on the mantle and the soft glow from its tiny flame cast a glow about the darkened room. Odd shapes in shadows slowly danced and weaved upon the walls.

“Teach the children,” whispered Santa, “that the candle shows man’s thanks for the star of long ago. Its small light is the mirror of starlight. At first, candles were placed on the trees - they were like many glowing stars shining against the dark green. The colored lights have now taken over in remembrance.”

Santa turned the small Christmas tree lights on and picked up a gift from under the tree. He pointed to the large bow and said, “A bow is placed on a present to remind us of the spirit of the brotherhood of man. We should remember that the bow is tied as men should be tied, all of us together, with the bonds of good will toward each other. Goodwill forever is the message of the bow.”

Santa slung his bag over his shoulder and began to reach for the candy cane placed high on the tree. He unfastened it and reached out toward me with it. “Teach the children that the candy cane represents the shepherd’s crook. The crook on the staff helps bring back the strayed sheep to the flock. The candy cane represents the helping hand we should show at Christmas time. The candy cane is the symbol that we are our brothers’ keepers.”

As Santa looked about the room, a feeling of satisfaction shone in his face. He read wonderment in my eyes, and I am sure he sensed admiration, for this night.

He reached into his bag and brought forth a large holly wreath. He placed it on the door and said, “Please teach the children the wreath symbolizes the eternal nature of love; it never ceases, stops, or ends. It is one continuous round of affection. The wreath does double duty; it is made of many things and in many colors. It should remind us of all the things of Christmas.”

Turn to Jesus

The Words of Enoch, Which He Preached Recalling the Promises That God Made to Adam:

“And he called upon our father Adam by his own voice, saying: ‘I am God; I made the world, and men before they were in the flesh.’ And he also said unto him: ‘If thou wilt turn unto me, and hearken unto my voice, and believe, and repent of all thy transgressions, and be baptized, even in water, in the name of mine Only Begotten Son, who is full of grace and truth, which is Jesus Christ, the only name which shall be given under heaven, whereby salvation shall come unto the children of men . . .

“Wherefore teach it unto your children, that all men, everywhere, must repent, or they can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God, for no unclean thing can dwell there, or dwell in his presence; for, in the language of Adam, Man of Holiness is his name, and the name of his Only Begotten is the Son of Man, even Jesus Christ, a righteous Judge, who shall come in the meridian of time.” (Moses 6:51–52, 57)

Carol: “Angels We Have Heard on High”

Angels we have heard on high

Sweetly singing o’er the plains,

And the mountains in reply

Echoing their joyous strains

Gloria in excelsis Deo.

Gloria in excelsis Deo

Shepherds, why this jubilee?

Why your joyous strains prolong?

What the gladsome tidings be

Which inspire your heav’nly song?

Gloria in excelsis Deo.

Gloria in excelsis Deo.

Come to Bethlehem and see

Him whose birth the angels sing;

Come, adore on bended knee

Christ, the Lord, the new-born King.

Gloria in excelsis Deo.

Gloria in excelsis Deo.

The Gift of the Magi

by O. Henry

(found http://www.online-literature.com/donne/1014/)

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.

In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."

The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.

There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.

Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.

So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."

"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.

"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."

Down rippled the brown cascade.

"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.

"Give it to me quick," said Della.

Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.

When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"

At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.

Della wriggled off the table and went for him.

"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."

"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.

"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"

Jim looked about the room curiously.

"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.

"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"

Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.

Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"

And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.

"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.

"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."

The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

A little at a time...

The Words of Micah Regarding Where the Messiah Would Be Born:

“But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out

of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth have been

from of old, from everlasting.” (Micah 5:2)

Carol: “O Little Town of Bethlehem”

O little town of Bethlehem,

How still we see thee lie.

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep

The silent stars go by;

Yet in thy dark streets shineth

The everlasting Light.

The hopes and fears of all the years

Are met in thee tonight.

For Christ is born of Mary,

And, gathered all above

While mortals sleep, the angels keep

Their watch of wond’ring love.

O morning stars, together

Proclaim the holy birth,

And praises sing to God the King,

And peace to men on earth.

How silently, how silently

The wondrous gift is giv’n!

So God imparts to human hearts

The blessings of his heav’n.

No ear may hear his coming;

But in this world of sin,

Where meek souls will receive him, still

The dear Christ enters in.

Mr. Jinks Hands Out The Holly

The Children’s Friend, December 1958

David had just finished making a snowman. He was very large and round with the jolliest face ever. He wore a high hat and a red plaid muffler, although why any snowman should want a muffler, David didn’t quite know. He only knew that it seemed to suit Mr. Jinks.

Of course his name was Mr. Jinks because that was what David named every snowman he had ever made. He had made several—three this very winter, but not one of them had seemed as handsome and jolly looking as the present Mr. Jinks. “I’m glad that you’re close to the sidewalk,” David told him, “because you look as if you were wishing everyone a Merry Christmas.”

He had just added another coal button when the parcel-post truck drove up and the driver carried a huge box into the house. “Ill bet that’s the holly Grandpa sent from Oregon,” David called, following the man into the house.

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” replied his mother. When they had opened the box she said, There’s an extra lot this year. We can make wreaths for every one of the front windows.” David helped, and when all the wreaths had been made there was a large basket of small pieces left over.

“I wonder what we can do with these?” she said. “They are much too pretty to be thrown away.”

“I know!” cried David. “I’ll let Mr. Jinks give them away. He can help make a merry Christmas for everyone who passes.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” Mother agreed. “And I’m sure that Mr. Jinks will think so too.”

First David made a sign which read “Merry Christmas. Help yourself.” Then he took the basket of holly out and propped it up in front of the snowman. After that he stood in one of the front windows to watch the people pass.

Mr. Bromley the banker, was the first one to come by. He was walking very fast and looking straight ahead. David was very much afraid that Mr. Bromley was going to pass right by without so much as a glance. But no, he saw the sign and stopped long enough to put a sprig of holly in his buttonhole. David could see a smile on the banker’s face, and he couldn’t remember ever having seen him smile before. But then, he reminded himself that he didn’t see Mr. Bromley very often and that maybe it worried him to have so much money in the bank that belonged to other people.

Next came Mrs. Ross, who worked in the bakery. She was walking slowly, as if she was very tired. “I guess that she has been making hundreds of fruit cakes,” said David to himself. When she noticed Mr. Jinks’ smiling face she smiled back and took a sprig of holly. Then she walked along as if she weren’t nearly so tired.

Some boys with ice skates came next. They each took some holly and called to the snowman. “Thanks, old fellow. A Merry Christmas to you, too.”

David watched people go by until it grew too dark for him to see any longer. Almost everyone had stopped to pick up a sprig of holly. “Mr. Jinks sure made a merry Christmas for a lot of people, he said to his mother.

“So he did,” she smiled. “With the help of you and Grandpa.”

Good Will to Men

The Words of Malachi:

“Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me: and the Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple, even the messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in: behold, he shall come, saith the LORD of hosts.” (Malachi 3:1)

Carol: “I Heard the Bells”

I heard the bells on Christmas day

Their old familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet the words repeat

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along th’un broken song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:

“There is no peace on earth,” I said,

“For hate is strong and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,

With peace on earth, good will to men.”

Till, ringing, singing, on its way,

The world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,

Of peace on earth, good will to men!

Special Delivery

By Mrs. Charles Stephan

Delivery boys come in all shapes and sizes — and in a variety of speeds and attitudes, too. Some come to the door like beleaguered deliverers of doom while others come on the bound, as though there were more rewards to work than the pay.

David Ward, of Memphis, Tennessee, is the latter kind. Weekdays after school and Saturdays, David pedals his bike for the Speedway Drug Store. And David’s a good sort for the job. When he delivers a prescription and says, “I hope you’re feeling better,” in that polite, concerned way of his, somehow you do feel better.

Last year on a Saturday night before Christmas, David, who was thirteen then, received his weekly salary as usual. But he didn’t go home. He had a special delivery of his own to make.

First he went down to the lot where the Christmas trees were being sold. When he’d given a number of the trees his careful inspection, he bought one and loaded it on his bicycle. Then he wheeled it over to 605 Life-Street, the home of a steady customer, Mrs. Brady Neals. She was seventy-one. And she had been blind for thirty-seven years.

“It’s me, Mrs. Neals, David from Speedway,” he said when she came to the door. And then David walked in and set up the tree and talked cheerily as he trimmed it with the lights and decorations he had brought along.

Mrs. Neals could hardly speak. Even as David was leaving she could only mumble her thanks.  But the old lady was thrilled, she kept reaching out to touch the tree’s branches and to breathe its forest-fresh fragrance.

“I’m seventy-one years old,” she kept saying over and over, “I’m seventy-one years old and I’ve never had a tree.”

Delivery boys come in all shapes and sizes and some of them bring more to their jobs than work.

Shannon

This year has been a busy and fun one!

I substitute teach for Lincoln Public Schools and work 3-4 days a week.  A blessing for our family, I'm grateful for the opportunities in the schools.  I also teach piano lessons - 6 students currently.

In terms of community service, I served as the secretary for the Heartland Republican Women and Pound Middle School.  Another highlight of my year was serving as a poll worker for the November general election.

Teaching the 8-9 year olds in Primary and serving as the Faith in God Girls leader has also been an important part of my year.  These children are truly from our Heavenly Father and it has been a joy getting to know them.  At the last minute, I accepted an assignment to serve as a "group mom" for our service Youth Conference.  It was amazing fun (Yay stripling penguins!!).

My physical activity goals are flourishing.  I jog/walked the Dorothy Dash in Kansas City this last April, with my friends Janelle and Wendy.

I also participated in the Red Kettle Run again this year - and Hailey and Katie came with me!

We went to Gatlinburg, Tennessee for spring break.  The weather was beautiful, the people charming, the tourist traps expensive, and we had a relaxing, pleasant vacation!

Happy Thanksgiving!

http://prek-8.com/holiday/thanksgiving/index.php

Psalms 100: 1-5

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.

Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing.

Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.

For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.

The History of Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is the opportunity to recognize the amazing gifts given, to express appreciation, and to go forward prepared to share with others the bounties of life.  It is often difficult to remember that Christ provided each of us with the greatest gift, that our Heavenly Father blesses us daily, but as we seal our hearts to love for them, and service and love to our fellow-person, we will come to better know our Heavenly Father, and our Savior.

Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing

Come, thou Fount of every blessing, 
tune my heart to sing thy grace; 
streams of mercy, never ceasing, 
call for songs of loudest praise. 
Teach me some melodious sonnet, 
sung by flaming tongues above. 
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it, 
mount of thy redeeming love. 

Here I raise mine Ebenezer; 
hither by thy help I'm come; 
and I hope, by thy good pleasure, 
safely to arrive at home. 
Jesus sought me when a stranger, 
wandering from the fold of God; 
he, to rescue me from danger, 
interposed his precious blood. 

O to grace how great a debtor 
daily I'm constrained to be! 
Let thy goodness, like a fetter, 
bind my wandering heart to thee. 
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, 
prone to leave the God I love; 
here's my heart, O take and seal it, 
seal it for thy courts above.