|
|
 |
|
|
For illustations on this page, click titles:
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
Touch Of The Master’s Hand
|
|
|
|
|
|
" 'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile!
'What am I bidden, good folks, ' he cried,
'Who'll start the bidding for me?'
'A dollar, a dollar - then two! Only two?
Two dollars, and who'll make it three?
Three dollars once, three dollars, twice;
Going for three' - but, no!
From the room far back, a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loosened strings;
He played a melody pure and sweet
As a caroling angel sings.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was soft and low,
Said, 'Now what am I bid for he old violin?'
And he held it up with the bow.
'A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?
Two thousand! And who'll make it three?
Three thousand, once; three thousand twice;
And going and gone,' cried he!
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
'We do not understand.
What changed its worth?'
Swift came the reply:
'The Touch Of The Master's Hand!'
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like the old violin.
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine;
A game and he travels on.
He's going once, and going twice
He's going and almost gone.
But the Master comes and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul
And the change that is wrought,
By The Touch Of The Master's Hand!"
- Myra Brook Welch
|
|
Top of Page
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I Met The Master
|
|
|
|
|
|
“I had walked life's way with an easy tread.
Had followed where comforts and pleasure led.
Until one day in a quiet place,
I met the Master face to face.
With station and rank and wealth for my goal;
Much thought for my body, but none for my soul.
I had entered to win life's mad race
When I met the Master face to face.
I met Him and knew Him, and blushed to see
That His eyes full of sorrow were fixed on me;
And I faltered and fell at His feet that day
While my castles melted and vanished away.
Melted and vanished and in their place
Naught else could I see but the Master's face.
And I cried aloud, ‘O Lord, make me meet to follow
The steps of Thy wounded feet.’
My thought is now for the souls of men.
I have lost my life to find it again.
Ere since that day in a quiet place.
I met the Master face to face.”
|
|
Top of Page
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
High Flight
|
|
|
|
|
|
John Gillespie Maggee, killed in action at the age of 19 was serving with the Royal Canadian Air Force,
some days before his death wrote:
“Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds
– and done 100 things you have not dreamed of
– wheeled and soared and swung high in the sunlit silence.
Hov’ring there, I’ve chased the shouting wind along and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
Where never lark, nor even eagle flew;
And, while with silent, lifting mind, I trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God!”
|
|
Top of Page
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Weaver
|
|
|
|
My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me,
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.
Oftentimes He weaveth sorrow,
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I, the underside.
Not ‘til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the Weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the patterns He has planned.
|
|
Top of Page
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Are All The Children In?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Are all the children in? The night is falling!
And the storm clouds gather in the threatening west;
The lowing cattle seek a friendly shelter;
The bird flies to her nest;
The thunder crashes; wilder grows the tempest,
And darkness settles o'er the fearful din;
Are all the children in?
Are all the children in? THe night is falling!
When gilded sin doth walk about the street,
Ah, at last it biteth like a serpent!
Poisoned are stolen sweets.
O, mothers! guard the feet of inexperience,
Too prone to wander in the paths of sin!
Oh, shut the door of love against temptation!
Are all the children in?
Are all the children in? The night is falling!
The night of death is hastening on apace;
The Lord is calling: Enter thou thy chamber,
and tarry there a space.
And when He comes, the King in all His glory,
Who died the shameful death our hearts to win,
Oh, may the gates of heaven shut about us,
With all the children in!"
|
|
Top of Page
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Breathe On Me!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Breathe on me, Breath of God,
Fill me with life anew,
That I may love what Thou doest love
And do what Thou wouldst do.
Breathe on me, Breath of God
Until with Thee I will Thy will
To do and to endure.
Breathe on me, Breath of God
Till I am wholly Thine,
Till all this earthly part of me
Glows with Thy fire divine."
|
|
Top of Page
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
God Will See you Through!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
God has promised that His resources will see you through.
Step out on faith and win the victory!
"No matter how the storms may raise
Upon the sea,
No matter how the waves may beat,
No matter what the strife,
The Lord is just the same today
As when he walked the sea,
And He can conquer every storm
That life may send to thee."
After the crosses -- a crown of life;
After weeping -- a song;
After the night of sorrow
A bright and glorious dawn.
After the heartaches -- the comforting;
After the storm -- a calm;
after suffering and signing --
God's love, a healing balm."
|
|
Top of Page
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
God, Give Me Courage!
|
|
|
|
|
|
"I do not ask to walk smooth paths
Nor bear an easy load,
I pray for strength and fortitude
To climb the rock-strewn road.
Give me such courage that I can scale
The hardest peaks alone,
And transformevery stumbling block
Into a stepping-stone."
|
|
Top of Page
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Christ Lives In Me!
|
|
|
|
|
|
What a lifting, liberating, thought.
All of God was in Christ...
All of Christ is in me...
All I needed was Christ Himself...
And I have Him living inside me!
|
|
Top of Page
|
|
|
|
