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Post by Deleted on Oct 5, 2010 7:24:28 GMT -6
“ He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7). APART FROM GOD
Pain wrung from Him no cry. The dying Lamb of God Was mute. Though blow on blow Fell on His quivering flesh, though He was wrenched and torn, And from His sacred brow
Dripped blood, His only cry was one of loneliness, “Thou hast forsaken Me, O God!” ... For Him a deeper woe than anguish of The tortured flesh, for He
Who knew no sin was yet made sin for you and me. Beneath that dreadful load Of guilt our Lord was dying there as sinners all Must die—apart from God,
As you and I would one day die, apart from God Through all eternity, Except for Him who bore the wrath of God for us That day on Calvary!
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Post by Deleted on Oct 6, 2010 0:58:53 GMT -6
“ Thus saith the LORD, In an acceptable time have I heard thee, and in a day of salvation have I helped thee: and I will preserve thee, and give thee for a covenant of the people, to establish the earth, to cause to inherit the desolate heritages” (Isaiah 49:8). WE LOVE YOU, SUFFERING ISRAEL
How God has loved you, Israel! You are the apple of His eye. Though shadows deepen round you, still He sees your tears and heeds your cry.
He keeps His chosen race intact; He holds the deed to Palestine. All your oppressors He has warned, “I will repay, vengeance is Mine!”
How long your weary journey since Your ancient penance was begun! How desperate your need of Him Whom you rejected, God's dear Son!
When you chose law instead of grace, And when you blindly crucified Your own Messiah on the cross, He loved you even as He died.
He bore with you in ages past, He sees your sorrows yet to come, His hands have carved in Petra's rocks A refuge for you, and a home.
O Israel, before His cross, would that we might bow with you, Where there is neither bond nor free, Nor black nor white, nor Greek nor Jew.
We love you, suffering Israel! Belov'd of God, will you not say, “O bleeding One, whom we have pierced, We come, a nation in a day!”
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Post by Deleted on Oct 7, 2010 2:52:28 GMT -6
“ And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads” (Revelation 22:4). ON READING AN ADVERTISEMENT OF A TRIP TO THE HOLY LAND
It would be sweet could I see it, That land where the Saviour walked, The quiet roads in the gloaming, The hills where He sat and talked.
My heart would be ever searching For some dear trace of Him there, His footprints in the meadows, The tones of His voice in the air.
My hand would be ever questing, With finger tips athrill, For an ancient wall or a rock where His touch might linger still.
My feet would falter in anguish At the place where my dear Lord died, My very soul would be sobbing, My heart would be crucified.
Yes, it would be sweet could I see it, But my cup is filled to the brim With the blessed hope of seeing soon Not the place where He dwelt—but Him!
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Post by Deleted on Oct 8, 2010 1:11:15 GMT -6
LO, I AM WITH YOU ALWAYS
“Lo, I am with you always.” Softly the promise steals Like sunlight into my shadows And brightens and warms and heals. Heals my anguish of spirit And horror of loneliness, Flooding my heart's dark chambers, Words that comfort and bless.
“Lo, I am with you always.” He, my Saviour and King, Making my heart His palace! I, though a broken thing, Am housing my blessed Master; Together we sup and dine, Together we hold sweet converse Over the bread and wine.
And always He goes before me On my thorn-strewn paths of pain; Never will He forsake me Nor leave me alone again. Sweet is His voice in the twilight As the evening shadows blend, “Lo, I am with you always, Even unto the end!”
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Post by Deleted on Oct 11, 2010 0:41:11 GMT -6
“ Being enriched in every thing to all bountifulness, which causeth through us thanksgiving to God. For the administration of this service not only supplieth the want of the saints, but is abundant also by many thanksgivings unto God” (II Corinthians 9:11-12). THANKSGIVING MEDITATION Since man apart from God is but an abnormal creature, our greatest joys, our deepest satisfactions, come in our relationship to Him. So I thank Him this Thanksgiving season for sins forgiven, for a great High Priest touched with a feeling of my infirmities, for the privilege of being a tool in His mighty hand, for His guidance, for His ear that hears my prayers, for His arm on which to lean, for His precious Word in which He speaks to us explicitly, and for the blessed, blessed hope of His soon coming! I thank Him, more than all else, for utter safety. In the past I have known what it was to be afraid, but now I know that I am entirely and perfectly secure. I feel that I have come into a safe harbor. Nothing, absolutely nothing, nor my own deeds nor those of others, not the works of devils, not circumstances, not so-called fate — nothing can separate me from the love of Christ. Pain, sorrow and bereavement can come, shattered nerves and body can be my lot, death can even put my body in the grave; but whatever comes, it passes first through His tender hands, and so I can love it because it comes from Him! Nothing can keep me out of heaven. I am as safe now as though I were already there. Just these few hard years to live, these few burdens to bear, and then to be forever with Him, our daily portion glory beyond infinite glory! Thankful? My cheeks are wet with happy tears. Why He gives all this to a poor creature like me I do not know—but I know that I shall need all eternity in which to thank Him for it!
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Post by Deleted on Oct 12, 2010 2:34:02 GMT -6
“ Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things” (Philippians 4:8). THESE DIE NOT
Loveliness and melody, Starlight, Smiling flowers, All sweet winds blowing; Dreams and wistful dusks And far horizons — All things pass.
Time's disillusionments, Life's tangled threads, All pain And long night watches; Broken hopes, And loneliness — All things pass.
The Word of God, His Son's shed blood, The empty tomb on Easter morn, Heaven and hell, And human souls — These things shall never pass, Shall never die!
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Post by Deleted on Oct 13, 2010 2:22:49 GMT -6
“ Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever” (Psalms 23:5-6). MY BODYGUARD
He has given His angels charge over me To keep me in all my ways, And goodness and mercy shall follow me As guardians, all my days.
Though the road be fraught with peril and plague I shall never tread it alone. They will bear me up in their gentle hands Lest I dash my foot on a stone;
They will tenderly guide my steps, and check My feet when I go astray. I need not fear the terror by night, Nor the arrow that flies by day.
Though the mountains be moved to the midst of the sea. They will set me upon a rock. Yea, goodness and mercy will safely keep This last least lamb of His flock.
They will bear me on eagles' wings at last To a City wide and fair, And goodness and mercy will dwell with me In the light of His presence there.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 14, 2010 4:04:47 GMT -6
“ And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it: and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour into it” (Revelation 21:24). THE KING COMES
Today I heard a king's voice speaking Through magic of the radio, With blare of music, and drums beating— The pomp that only kings may know—
And cheering multitudes to give him The honor that is but his due. Yet in my heart a wistful longing As I wondered if he knew,
If he knew a day is coming When his ears shall hear the words, “Every knee must bow before Me, King of kings and Lord of lords!”
And I breathed a prayer for monarchs, I, so humble and unknown, “Touch and teach that king, and make him Thy servant, Lord, upon his throne!” “ When thou with rebukes dost correct man for iniquity, thou makest his beauty to consume away like a moth: surely every man is vanity. Selah” (Psalms 39:11)
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Post by Deleted on Oct 15, 2010 4:03:23 GMT -6
BEAUTY DYING
Beauty dying Has its poignancy— Opal sunsets Fading into gray;
Autumn's crimson Dropping from the trees, Pearl smoke spirals Lost upon the breeze;
Quivering last note Of a violin— Eve in Eden's garden, Marred with sin.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 18, 2010 5:42:23 GMT -6
“ And to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, even Jesus, which delivered us from the wrath to come” (I Thessalonians 1:10). THE ELEVENTH HOUR
He comes, the Lord of glory comes! Our eyes, grown dim From midnight watching of the far Horizon's rim, Behold a dawning light! Breathless, We wait for Him.
The solemn clock of God ticks on, The moments race. Still He delays His steps for yet A little space, A few more souls, last trophies of His sovereign grace.
Men's hearts are failing them for fear; Black storm clouds lower. Soon those who spurned His love shall know His wrath and power. . . Lost soul, flee to the cross before God strikes His hour!
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Post by Deleted on Oct 19, 2010 4:04:11 GMT -6
“ Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is” (I John 3:2). I SHALL BE LIKE HIM
A nose, two lips, two eyes, a chin, a brow, Describes a billion persons living now, A trillion more who died. Amazing how
The Master Artist who designed each face Made each one different! In all of space No two alike, nor did His brush retrace
A single line. And so I like to feel That this poor face of mine bears His own seal, And some bright day, as I before Him kneel,
That He will smile at me, while looking down Into my face, then leaning from His throne, Will take His brush, and make it like His own!
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Post by Deleted on Oct 20, 2010 5:14:34 GMT -6
“ But because the LORD loved you, and because he would keep the oath which he had sworn unto your fathers, hath the LORD brought you out with a mighty hand, and redeemed you out of the house of bondmen, from the hand of Pharaoh king of Egypt” (Deuteronomy 7:8). TO BLEEDING ISRAEL
Before a modern Pharaoh's goad You stumble on, beneath a load Too great for human strength to bear. You cry, “O God, dost Thou not care? When wolves oppress Thy chosen race Why dost Thou turn away Thy face?”
O Israel, sad Israel, Your fathers' God still loves you well, And still He offers to your race— O matchless wonder of His grace— His paschal Lamb, for sinners slain, His Son, so soon to come again, That One who, dying, prayed for you, “Forgive, they know not what they do!”
He loves you yet, that Blessed One, Your own Messiah, God's dear Son. In this your desperate need, there is No other help for you save His, No other refuge from the storm About to break. His mighty arm Is strong to save you, and His power Will keep you in your darkest hour.
He can supply your every need. With outstretched hands behold Him plead, “Come unto Me, My people, come, And I will take you safely home!”
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Post by Deleted on Oct 21, 2010 2:31:45 GMT -6
“ For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens” (II Corinthians 5:1). NOT FOR MY FLESH
Not for my flesh I ask a boon. Bright, fragile flower that fades too soon, What matter, when it lies so still, If living, it had drunk its fill? The fairest flesh is but a name For broken cup which held a flame.
My flesh will be returned to dust To wait for God, and yet I trust That this my spirit, soaring up, Unmindful of the broken cup, Will fare forth on its lonely quest, Through fading splendors of the west, To His far star. And so I pray, Let not that bright flame lose its way, But set a beacon light for me On outposts of eternity!
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Post by Deleted on Oct 22, 2010 5:39:08 GMT -6
“ Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert” (Isaiah 43:19). SPRING
Songs are all resyncopated, Earth is all redecorated!
Skies are newly painted blue, Bluebirds freshly touched up too,
Meadows done in tender green With a certain misty sheen.
Let all sad remembering Be forgotten—it is spring!
Show me any heart could ache In a field where daisies wake;
Who is there could ponder pain In this slanting April rain,
Or who could sigh, “Ah, woe is me” Beneath a budding apple tree?
Away, speak not to me of sorrows! In spring God sends such glad tomorrows!
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Post by Deleted on Oct 25, 2010 2:09:06 GMT -6
“ The heavens declare the glory of God.” BLIND
God made Him an arch of velvet black, Depth beyond depth of space, And He launched His white-winged fleets of clouds To scud as the night winds race.
He hung the moon in a maple tree Set high upon a hill, And He studded the sky with silver stars Whose orbits were His sweet will.
The stars made music for God to hear, And His face was bathed with their light, While the crowding angels peeped and peered, And trembled in their delight.
But far below the sad world sighed, Though He drenched it with His dew, And He held it cupped in His tender hand, For His mercy is ever new;
And He called to earth—but the ears of man Were as deaf as deaf could be, And his eyes, from looking down, had grown Blind, and he could not see.
So, wearied with fighting and toil and hate, Man slept the whole night through, While God's face lighted the sky! But man Was blind and he never knew.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 26, 2010 0:38:03 GMT -6
A LETTER Dear Friend: When I was a very small child I prayed earnestly that God would send me a letter. It was to be written on fine white paper edged with gold, and it was to tell me how much He loved me, and to show me how to be good. I wanted it desperately, and every morning before I laced my shoes, I would run out to the front porch to see if it had come. It hurts yet to think of my bewildered disappointment, as the days and weeks passed. And yet, beside me as I write is my letter from God, on fine white paper edged with gold, bound in a volume called the Bible. In it He tells me how much He loves me, and shows me how to be good. Throughout all the ages men have been searching to find out God, seeking to trace His face in the starry heavens, His footprints in the mountains and plains, thinking to take His measure with their finite minds, even striving to shape His image with their hands. Suppose that God had never communicated with man in any way, and that after ages of groping for Him, word would come that on a certain day there would be one message from Him. Can you not imagine the scene? No one would sleep the previous night, and long before daylight great crowds, hushed and awed with wonder, would gather and wait in tense expectancy, straining their eyes to the heavens above, so long mute! Finally, fluttering down from the blue would come that precious word from Almighty God Himself! How the crowd would surge forward to learn what He had said! Who would dare to touch it, to pick it up? The message would be stored in a waterproof vault, and would be the dearest treasure of the human race. Would it not be terribly unfair of God to put us here to stumble in the dark, and then have a Day of Judgment when we would learn to our horror that certain things were required of us, and that we should be punished forever because we had not fulfilled these obligations? Certain things are required of us, and we shall be separated forever from God if we do not accept the Way of escape He has provided. But He has been just and fair with us; He has told us plainly all about it. Marvelous, wonderful beyond imagination, that the great God would so condescend, that He would have it all put down in black and white, in our own language, so clearly that we need have no uncertainty about it We can by careful study understand His spiritual laws, which are as immutable and orderly as His law governing the physical world. He tells us of the past—facts that the great scientists are still endeavoring to discover. He tells us of the present, of mighty world movements which are confounding the wisest statesmen and making their hearts fail them for fear. He tells us of the future, unveiling to us mysteries undreamed of by the man ignorant of His Word. Philosophy and science give us only the record of human reasoning and discovery. They can go only as far as the human mind can go; but the Bible is the voice of authority! I need not speak here of its matchless beauty and perfect diction. That it is the revealed Word of God is the fact which most concerns us. Let no one tell you that man wrote the Bible. “Holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.” If you will really study the Bible, you will be convinced that man could not have written it. Things dovetail too well. God is God of order, of clarity of thought. There is no confusion, no contradiction, when rightly understood. Each part slips into place as perfectly as the parts of a perfect machine. Here the plan of the ages unrolls before us, beginning with the account of the Creation in the first book of the Bible, and continuing down through the drama of human history to the final consummation of this early creation, in the book of Revelation. God tells us how man, created in His own image, sinned, and the whole after-existence of the human race, and the physical world as well, was changed. Looking ahead through the ages, God planned a way out for man. Infinite justice would demand the punishment of the sinner, yet infinite love longed for his redemption. God is both. You see the dilemma? You know, of course, what He did. Jesus Christ our Lord, the second Person of the Trinity, took on Him the form of human flesh and dwelt among us. Upon Him, who was sinless, God placed the sins of all mankind. He suffered upon the cross indescribable tortures under the weight of the sins of the whole world, individually and collectively, for your sins and mine, as well as the agony of being separated from His Father. He died in our stead, and all who accept by faith His atonement for their sins, and receive Him as their Lord and Saviour, are “born again” into the family of God, to be presented “faultless” before the throne of God. And thus God's love and justice met together at the cross of Christ. This great subject of the atonement is the central theme of the Bible, from the promises in the first chapters of the old Testament, through types and symbols, such as the blood on the doorposts when the Passover was instituted, the tabernacle with its priesthood and offerings, the brazen serpent, etc. Down through the prophecies God's dealings with a fallen race are seen, until we come to the consummation in the redemptive work of Christ. Then on through this present age of grace, and the wonderful happenings just ahead of us, the rapture of the Church, the Tribulation, the coming again of our Lord to reign, and so on through the eons to come. Stupendous and fascinating beyond words, this letter which God has written us! Can anyone study it and remain unchanged? It is practical, too, with explicit directions for our daily walk. There is no contingency which it cannot meet. There is wisdom and guidance, strength and security for you within these pages, and there is peace. This precious Word is the Bread of Life to the hungry soul, and Living Water to them that thirst. It is a lamp unto the feet of the living, and a pillow for the head of the dying. It tells of five kinds of crowns to be won, and describes our future home in heaven. Dear child of God, you who have been redeemed by the precious blood of Christ, how much time do you spend daily with this wonderful letter from God? Can you expect spiritual growth without spiritual food? Some day you will look upon the blessed face of our Lord in the home He is preparing for you. You will gaze upon the wounds in His hands and His feet. Oh, what shame to admit you seldom read His letter to you! The Lord I love went on ahead To make a home for me. He said He would come back again, and He, O gracious love, He wrote to me! He knew I was so weak and blind And foolish that I could not find The road alone. He told me things That all earth's wise men, and its kings Have never guessed, yet I foreknow If I but read His Word. And oh, Such depths of love on every sheet! My soul is trembling at His feet. What would He think of me If when I saw Him I should say, “I was too busy every day To read what Thou didst write to me. I really hadn't time for Thee!” And you other dear friends who are still unsaved, will you not read this written Word, and in it find the living Word who was made flesh and dwelt among us, and who is your only hope of salvation? Can you be indifferent to His matchless love and sacrifice? Can you possibly be indifferent to your own fate? That voice of authority speaks very plainly indeed about you. “ All have sinned and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). The wages of sin is death, yet “ He who knew no sin was made sin for us that we might be made the righteousness of God in him” (II Corinthians 5:21). Was ever a bargain so wondrous as this? My guilt for His glory, my pain for His peace, my night for the light of His face! “ Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life” (John 5:24). “ As many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name” (John 1:12). Dear friends, as I close this little letter to you I make one last plea. God has written to you. His Word is true and unchangeable. He says plainly there are two courses open to you: on one hand enmity, and eternal separation from Him if you reject His blessed Son. On the other hand, acceptance of Christ, which makes you a child of God — “ and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint-heirs with Christ.” And having offered you these riches which are far beyond our feeble imagining He says, “ Whosoever will may come. . . Now is the accepted time.” He is knocking at the door of your heart. Will you not open to Him, and receive Him as your Lord and Master, and trust Him as your only Saviour?
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Post by Deleted on Oct 27, 2010 2:09:25 GMT -6
A BACK YARD MIRACLE My back yard is simple, just a tiny lawn, three trees, and a hedge of honeysuckle, but it is nonetheless a place of beauty and compelling interest. The sky stretches away into infinity above it; the earth is eight thousand miles deep beneath my feet. In the yard itself is a daily unfolding drama as the birds, insects, and crawling things live out their little span before my eyes. The other day, as I sat in my chair listening and looking, a humming bird zoomed down and perched on the clothesline near me. I began talking to him and he seemed interested. So I hoisted myself upon my crutches and gradually drew nearer to him, talking all the time. He continued to sit on the wire though my face was hardly a foot from him. So I gathered together all the love for little wild things which is in my heart, and I poured it out to him. I don't know what I told him — that he was lovely, that I adored him, that the wide world was beautiful, and that God was good. Scarcely daring to breathe, at last I laid my lips against his soft warm breast and against his tiny cold feet. He never stirred, and I could hardly believe that he was actually letting me touch him. His jeweled feathers were exquisitely soft, and he smelled like honey. It must have been his first experience with the touch of a human being, and yet he maintained an air of friendly nonchalance. I thought perhaps he was blind or sick, but when I dropped my crutch he flew up, just a foot or two, then returned, and, final mark of trust, turned his back on me! So I kissed him up and down his little spine until he turned and faced me again. I had to drop my crutch and put a hand on either side of him, on the wire, to support myself, but after viewing my hands with slight distrust for a moment, he settled down to his former position; against my lips. I can stand for only a few moments at a time, so I had to leave him and sit on a nearby bench. But he waited for me, so I came back again and again, and each time we loved and trusted each other more, until at last I was laughing and pushing him with my lips, trying to knock him off the wire, until he had to scramble to keep his balance. Finally he ran his long bill hopefully up first one of my nostrils then the other! Altogether I must have had my lips against him for fifteen or twenty minutes, but at last pain forced me to go reluctantly into the house, and the little bird zoomed off into the sky again, perhaps to tell his mate of his strange experience. Every time I wakened in the night my heart thrilled over this lovely miracle which had happened to me. I saw my little friend again the next morning. He came back to the clothesline and remembered me, and let me put my face against him as I had done the day before. This time my husband was at home, and he tried to get a picture, but came too close and frightened the little fellow and he flew away. Then I was in bed for a couple of weeks, and I never saw him again. But his little wings still flutter in my heart, and sometimes I catch the perfume of wild honey, or feel again his soft warm breast against my unbelieving lips.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 28, 2010 3:37:09 GMT -6
“ And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed” (Romans 13:11) ON GROWING OLD
Why do we dread to grow old? Is today so good That we will not welcome tomorrow?
Why do we dread to grow old? Are we satisfied with ourselves as we are?
Why do we dread to grow old? Are our lessons learned? Are we ready to close the book?
Why do we dread to grow old? There are always beckoning dreams ahead!
Why do we dread to grow old? Is our harvest gathered, Is our treasure house full of gold?
O let us not dread to grow old— Each year brings us nearer to God!
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Post by Deleted on Oct 29, 2010 2:15:22 GMT -6
“ Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God hath shined” (Psalms 50:2). BEAUTY WALKS AT NIGHT
Wearied with the sun, When the day is done
Beauty walks at night With a rare delight;
Counts time by the far Throbbing of a star,
Bathes in floods of white Shimmering moonlight,
Joys in every breeze Which stirs the silent trees.
Then she doffs her shoes, Bright with evening dews;
Startled, she has found She walks on holy ground,
For every moonlit road Leads her on toward God!
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Post by Deleted on Nov 1, 2010 2:07:17 GMT -6
“ Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares” (Hebrews 13:2). FORETASTE A lovely thing happened last night in our street, and it left a hush in our hearts and to some of us a sob in our throats, and the feeling that we had been entertaining angels unaware. I don't know who nor what they were, perhaps students from our own Biola, but just after dusk a band of young people strolled slowly past our house, singing the old hymns which are dear to many of us. Their voices rang out on the sweet summer air with indescribable beauty. Even the moon and its attendant star seemed to lean from the heavens to catch the words, as they must have listened long ago to the angels' song announcing the birth of Him who came to earth to die for our saving! The tears ran down my cheeks as I thought longingly of heaven and how groups of us would be strolling down the golden streets, and sweetly and naturally lift our voices in praise of Him to whom all honor and praise are due. And sometimes, sensing a Presence; we may turn suddenly and find our Lord Himself beside us in the throng, listening to our song. Surely He must have listened last night in our street and been pleased. The singing died away in the distance, the people went back into their houses and shut the doors, but that blessed Presence still seemed to linger in our street.
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