"Heredi-Tea"

As Becca Ellen and I prayed about this coming new year, a pile of 'tea' leaves began to form in our note pages... each leaf brings new flavor, and together these leaves compose the subtle forms, flavors, and beauty of  'Christiani-Tea'.

 Our first flavor, "Heredi-Tea" is ready and waiting, I have my teacup of Good Earth, you have your favorite brew, so let's sit down and ask God to speak to us . . 

"My sweet daughter,

Welcome to My family. You know how long I have been patiently calling you, how I chose you before the foundation of the earth. Now, you are My child. Your life will be completely different from now on. You are no longer a vagrant beggar, you are a Princess, the daughter of the High King, the King of Kings. 

You are royalty. 

Even though you don't feel like it.

I have plans for you that far exceed your dreams... but... they require a choice on your part. 

Are you willing to live them? 

They can only be fulfilled if you are seeking Me. 

"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.

"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.

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

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!

"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."

"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

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!

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.

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