pink roses

Monday, January 21, 2013

"It Couldn't be Done" [guest poet]

Somebody said that it couldn’t be done,
    But, he with a chuckle replied
That "maybe it couldn’t," but he would be one
    Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
    On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
    That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

Somebody scoffed: "Oh, you’ll never do that;
    At least no one has done it";
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
    And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
    Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
    That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
    There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
    The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle it in with a bit of a grin,
    Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
    That "couldn’t be done," and you’ll do it.


Edgar A Guest

About the Author:

Edgar Albert Guest was born in Britain
 but grew up and spent most of his life
in the U.S.A. 
He worked most of his adult
life as newspaperman, syndicated country
wide and is reputed to have had a new
 poem published in a newspaper every day
for over 30 years.








Saturday, January 19, 2013

"A Light Shining out of Darkness"

by William Cowper

God moves in a mysterious way,
     His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea,
     And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines
     Of never failing skill,
He treasures up His bright designs,
     And works His sovereign will.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
     The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
     In blessings on your head.
Judge not the LORD by feeble sense,
     But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence,
     He hides a smiling face.
His purposes will ripen fast,
     Unfolding ev'ry hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
     But sweet will be the flow'r.
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
     And scan his work in vain;
GOD is his own interpreter,
     And he will make it plain.

Friday, January 18, 2013

Self Examination

Before in sleep I close my eyes,
These things I must remember thrice:
What I've been doing all the day-
What were my acts at work or play?
What have I heard, what have I seen?
What have I learnt where'er I've been?
What have I done that's worth the doing?
What have I done that I should not?
What duty was this day forgot?

Before in sleep I close my eyes,
These things I must remember thrice:
If I've done ill, then I must pray
That God would wash my sins away,
And for the merits of His Son,
Forgive the evil I have done;
The pardoned daily, filled with love,
I'll be prepared to dwell above,
And there forever, round the throne,
The praise of God forever tone.

Anonymous


Thursday, January 17, 2013

Hello Girls!!
Becca Ellen and I want to make sure that you checked out our newest
Godly Femininity Link: Set Apart Girl
Remember that Guest post in September, "Joining the Ranks"?
If you didn't visit the website of the post's author then, Becca Ellen and I want to make sure that you take the time to do so. From the months that I have spent on her site (with a cup of tea, my Bible and journal of course!) I KNOW you will be blessed by what you see!!!

Presenting:

Set Apart Girl,
a ministry of Leslie Ludy

Catch up on past issues here

Leave a note of encouragement and I will forward it to her staff!

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

"Changed By Mercy"

by William Cowper


Sin enslav'd me many years,
     And led me bound and blind;
Till at length a thousand fears
     Came swarming o'er my mind.
Where, I said in deep distress,
Will these sinful pleasures end?
How shall I secure my peace,
And make the LORD my friend?
Friends and ministers said much
     The gospel to enforce;
But my blindness still was such,
     I chose a legal course:
Much I fasted, watch'd and strove,
Scarce would show my face abroad,
Fear'd, almost, to speak or move,
A stranger still to GOD.
Thus afraid to trust his grace,
     Long time did I rebel;
Till, despairing of my case,
     Down at his feet I fell:
Then my stubborn heart he broke,
And subdu'd me to his sway;
By a simple word he spoke,
"Thy sins are done away."

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

"Ne'er my Child forget to Pray."

Ne'er my child forget to pray,
What'ere the business of the day,
If happy dreams have blest thy sleep,
If startling fears have made thee weep:
With holy thoughts begin the day,
And ne'er, my child, forget to pray.

Pray Him by whom the birds are fed,
To give to thee thy daily bread:
If wealth His bounty would bestow,
Praise Him who from all blessings flow:
If He who gave should take away,
O ne'er, my child, forget to pray!

The time will come when thou wilt miss
A father's and a mother's kiss,
And then, my child, perchance you'll see
Some who in prayer ne'er bent a knee:
From all such examples turn away,
And ne'er, my child, forget to pray.

from "Child's book of poetry," Author unknown



Saturday, January 12, 2013

Guest Poet



"Saturday Evening"
by John Newton



Safely through another week,
God has brought us on our way;
Let us now a blessing seek,
On th' approaching Sabbath-day:
     Day of all the week the best,
     Emblem of eternal rest.

Mercies multiply'd each hour
Through the week our praise demand
Guarded by Almighty pow'r,
Fed and guided by his hand:
     Though ungrateful we have been,
     Only made returns of sin.

While we pray for pard'ning grace,
Through the dear Redeemer's name,
Show thy reconciled face,
Shine away our sin and shame:
     From our worldly care set free,
     May we rest this night with thee.

When the morn shall bid us rise,
May we feel thy presence near!
May thy glory meet our eyes
When we in thy house appear!
     There afford us, Lord, a taste
     Of our everlasting feast.

May thy Gospel's joyful sound
Conquer sinners, comfort saints;
Make the fruits of grace abound,
Bring relief for all complaints:
     Thus may all our Sabbaths prove,
     Till we join the church above!

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Happy New Year!

"As we sit and reminisce
of the year gone fleetly by,
sit and ponder
think a space
of how twas filled
with naught but Grace."


"At the Close of the Year."

By John Newton



Let hearts and tongues unite,
     And loud thanksgivings raise:
'Tis duty, mingled with delight,
     To sing the Saviour's praise.

To him we owe our breath,
     He took us from the womb,
Which else had shut us up in death,
     And prov'd an early tomb.

When on the breast we hung,
     Our help was in the Lord;
'Twas he first taught our infant tongue
     To form the lisping word.

When in our blood we lay,
     He would not let us die,
Because his love had fix'd a day
     To bring salvation nigh.

In childhood and in youth,
     His eye was on us still:
Though strangers to his love and truth,
     And prone to cross his will.

And since his name we knew,
     How gracious has he been:
What dangers has he led us through,
     What mercies have we seen!

Now through another year,
     Supported by his care,
We raise our Ebenezer here,
     "The Lord has help'd thus far."

Our lot in future years
     Unable to foresee,
He kindly, to prevent our fears,
     Says, "Leave it all to me."

Yea, Lord, we wish to cast
     Our cares upon thy breast!
Help us to praise thee for the past,
     And trust thee for the rest.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

The Lord My Banner

Jehovah-Nissi
(Exodus, xvii.15) 

  By whom was David taught, 
To aim the deadly blow,        
When he Goliath fought, 
And laid the Gittite low? 
Nor sword nor spear the stripling took,
 But chose a pebble from the brook.        
'Twas Israel's God and King Who sent him to the fight;        
Who gave him strength to sling, 
And skill to aim aright. 
Ye feeble saints, your strength endures, 
Because young David's God is yours.        
Who order'd Gideon forth, 
To storm the invaders' camp.        
With arms of little worth, 
A pitcher and a lamp? 
The trumpets made his coming known 
And all the host was overthrown.        
Oh! I have seen the day, 
When with a single word,        
God helping me to say, 
"My trust is in the Lord," 
My soul hath quell'd a thousand foes 
Fearless of all that could oppose.        
But unbelief, self-will, 
Self-righteousness, and pride,        
How often do they steal 
My weapon from my side! 
Yet David's Lord, and Gideon's friend, 
Will help his servant to the end. 

William Cowper, Olney Hymns

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Resolutions (Day 4)


What was it that made the "Spiritual Giants" great?
Lord Jesus, they were normal people who gave themselves completely to You. Cannot I do that too?!!
Open my eyes to see what you would have changed in me.
Show me what things you would have me strive for in the coming year.
Teach me to live the life of the Lord Jesus here on earth!

"I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me."


Excerpts from Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret:

"Do you know, I now think that this striving, longing, hoping for better days to come is not the true way to holiness, happiness or usefulness. It is better, no doubt, far better than being satisfied with poor attainments, but not the best way after all.""The Lord Jesus received is holiness begun; the Lord Jesus cherished is holiness advancing; the Lord Jesus counted upon as never absent would be holiness complete."

"He is most holy who has most of Christ within, and joys most fully in the finished work . . ."

". . . . To let my loving Savior work in me His will, my sanctification, is what I would live for by His grace. Abiding, not striving nor struggling; looking unto Him; trusting Him for present power; . . . resting in the love of an Almighty Savior, in the joy of a complete salvation, "from all sin"––this is not new, and yet 'tis new to me . . . . Christ literally all seems to me, now, the power, the only power for service, the only ground for unchanging joy. "

"How then to have our faith increased? Only by thinking of all that Jesus is and all He is for us: His life, His death, His work, He Himself as revealed to us in the Word, to be the subject of our constant thoughts. Not a striving to have faith . . . but a looking to the Faithful One seems all we need; a resting in the Loved One entirely, for time and eternity."

. . . . I looked to Jesus, and when I saw––oh, how joy flowed!

"It was resting in Jesus now, and letting Him do the work––which makes all the difference."

 Whenever he spoke in meetings after that, a new power seemed to flow from him, and in the practical things of life a new peace possessed him. Troubles did not worry him as before. He cast everything on God in a new way, and gave more time to prayer. It was the exchanged life that had come to him––the life that is indeed "No longer I." . . . It was a blessed reality "Christ liveth in me." And how great the difference!––instead of bondage, liberty; instead of failure, quiet victories within; instead of fear and weakness, a restful sense of sufficiency in Another.

"Perhaps I may make myself more clear if I go back a little. . . . I prayed, agonized, fasted, strove, made resolutions, read the Word more diligently, sought more time for meditation––but all without avail. Every day, almost every hour, the consciousness sin oppressed me.
I knew that if only I could abide in Christ all would be well, but I could not. I would begin the day with prayer, determined not to take my eye off Him for a moment, but pressure of duties, sometimes very trying, and constant interruptions apt to be so wearing, caused me to forget Him. Then one's nerves get so fretted in this climate that temptations to irritability, bad thoughts and sometimes unkind words are all the more difficult to control. Each day brought its register of sin and failure, of lack of power. To will was indeed "present with me," but how to perform I found not.
Then came the questions, is there no rescue? Must it be thus to the end––constant conflict, and too often defeat? . . . . Instead of growing stronger, I seemed to be getting weaker and to have less power against sin; and no longer, for faith and even hope were getting low. I hated myself, I hated my sin, yet gained no strength against it. I felt I was a child of God. His Spirit in my heart would cry, in spite of all, "Abba, Father." But to rise to my privileges as a child, I was utterly powerless. . . . . I knew I was powerless. I told the Lord so, and asked Him to give me help and strength. Sometimes I almost believed that He wold keep and uphold me; but on looking back in the evening––alas! There was but sin and failure to confess and mourn before God.
. . . . And yet, never did Christ seem more precious; a Savior who could and would save such a sinner! . . . And sometimes there were seasons not only of peace but of joy in the Lord; but they were transitory, and at best there was a sad lack of power.
All the time I felt assured that there was in Christ all I needed, but the practical question was––how to get it out. He was rich truly, but I was poor; He was strong, but I weak. I knew full well that there was in the root, the stem, abundant fatness, but how to get it into my puny little branch was the question. As gradually light dawned, I saw that faith was the only requisite––was the hand to lay hold on His fullness and make it mine. But I had not this faith.

I strove for faith, but it would not come; I tried to exercise it, but in vain. Seeing more and more the wondrous supply of grace laid up in Jesus, the fullness of our precious Savior, my guilt and helplessness seemed to increase. Sins committed appeared but as trifles compared with the sin of unbelief which was their cause, which could not or would not take God at His word. . . . I prayed for faith, but it came not. What was I to do? When my agony of soul was at its height, a sentence in a letter from dear McCarthy was used to remove the scales from my eyes, and the Spirit of God revealed to me the truth of our oneness with Jesus as I had never known it before.

"But how to get faith strengthened? Not by striving after faith, but by resting on the Faithful One."
As I read, I saw it all! "If we believe not, he abideth faithful." I looked to Jesus and saw (and when I saw, oh, how joy flowed)! That He had said, "I will never leave thee."
"Ah, there is rest!" I thought. "I have striven in vain to rest in Him. I'll strive no more. For has not He promised to abide with me––never to leave me, never to fail me?" And, . . . He never will."

"The sweetest part, . . . is the rest which full identification with Christ brings. I am no longer anxious about anything, as I realize this; for He, I know, is able to carry out His will, and His will is mine. It makes no matter where He places me, or how. That is rather for Him to consider than for me; for in the easiest position He must give me His grace, and in the most difficult His grace is sufficient. . . . So, if God should place me in serious perplexity, must He not give me much guidance; in positions of great difficulty, much grace; in circumstances of great pressure and trials, much strength? No fear that His resources will prove unequal to the emergency! And His resources are mine, for He is mine, and is with me and dwells in me.
And since Christ has thus dwelt in my heart by faith, how happy I have been! . . . I am no better than before. In a sense, I do not wish to be, nor am I striving to be. But I am dead and buried with Christ––Ay, and risen too! And now Christ lives in me, and "the life that I now live in the flesh, I live by faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me."

". . . . Do not let us consider Him as far off, when God has made us one with Him, members of His very body. Nor should we look upon this experience, these truths, as for the few. They are the birthright of every child of God, and no one can dispense with them without dishonoring our Lord. The only power for deliverance from sin or for true service is Christ.
And it is all so simple and practical!"

I change, He changes not;
The Christ can never die:
His truth, not mine, the resting place;
His love, not mine, the tie.