If a wren can cling to a spray aswing,
In a mad May wind and sing and sing
As if he'd burst for joy,
Why cannot I, contented, lie
In His quiet arms, beneath His sky,
Unmoved by earth's annoy?
Author unknown
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Sunday, April 8, 2012
A Better Resurrection
I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or tears;
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is in the falling leaf
O Jesus, quicken me.
My life is like a faded leaf,
My harvest dwindled to a husk;
Truly my life is void and brief
And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall -- the sap of Spring;
O Jesus, rise in me.
My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perished thing,
Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for him my King:
O Jesus, drink of me.
by Christina Rossetti 1830-1894
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or tears;
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is in the falling leaf
O Jesus, quicken me.
My life is like a faded leaf,
My harvest dwindled to a husk;
Truly my life is void and brief
And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall -- the sap of Spring;
O Jesus, rise in me.
My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perished thing,
Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for him my King:
O Jesus, drink of me.
by Christina Rossetti 1830-1894
Friday, April 6, 2012
Free to Be
There came a time, I felt a longing
To be free; free to be,
To be a limb on the Tree of Life
That would reach out and offer fruit
To nourish the poor
So they, too, would be free,
Free to be.
I searched here and there,
From mountain tops to chapel pews.
Peace was nowhere.
Even the sweet air of the South Pacific
Held the stale quality
Of freedom withheld.
I came home in despair.
In my search for freedom, I came upon
A layer of fog;
A blanket of doubt
Lay on top my labyrinth within -
A mouse in a maze
Trapped!
It soon became clear, I was the capture
Who held myself prisoner all these tear-filled years.
In order to grow, I had to let go -
To open my deadly grip,
To surrender all my pride and shame,
To hang in His loving arms.
I found freedom in His pain.
by Julie St. John December, 1986
Today is Good Friday, the day we remember the crucifixion of our Lord and King. It is a good day because Jesus demonstrated His deep and lasting love for us. Only in Christ will we find the freedom and peace we long for along the path of life.
To be free; free to be,
To be a limb on the Tree of Life
That would reach out and offer fruit
To nourish the poor
So they, too, would be free,
Free to be.
I searched here and there,
From mountain tops to chapel pews.
Peace was nowhere.
Even the sweet air of the South Pacific
Held the stale quality
Of freedom withheld.
I came home in despair.
In my search for freedom, I came upon
A layer of fog;
A blanket of doubt
Lay on top my labyrinth within -
A mouse in a maze
Trapped!
It soon became clear, I was the capture
Who held myself prisoner all these tear-filled years.
In order to grow, I had to let go -
To open my deadly grip,
To surrender all my pride and shame,
To hang in His loving arms.
I found freedom in His pain.
by Julie St. John December, 1986
Today is Good Friday, the day we remember the crucifixion of our Lord and King. It is a good day because Jesus demonstrated His deep and lasting love for us. Only in Christ will we find the freedom and peace we long for along the path of life.
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