Friday, August 18, 2017

On This Rainy Summer Morn






The Cry Of The Dreamer


I am tired of planning and toiling
In the crowded hives of men;
Heart-weary of building and spoiling,
And spoiling and building again.
And I long for the dear old river,
Where I dreamed my youth away;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a toiler dies in a day.

I am sick of the showy seeming
Of a life that is half a lie;
Of the faces lined with scheming
In the throng that hurries by.
From the sleepless thoughts' endeavour,
I would go where the children play;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a thinker dies in a day.

I can feel no pride, but pity
For the burdens the rich endure;
There is nothing sweet in the city
But the patient lives of the poor.

Oh, the little hands too skillful
And the child mind choked with weeds!
The daughter's heart grown willful,
And the father's heart that bleeds!

No, no! from the street's rude bustle,
From trophies of mart and stage,
I would fly to the woods' low rustle
And the meadows' kindly page.
Let me dream as old by the river,
And be loved for the dream always;
For a dreamer lives forever
And a toiler dies in a day.

John Boyle O'Reilly





Listening To The River
Doris Joa




Thursday, August 17, 2017

I Didn't Speak Up






In Germany, the Nazis came for the communist and
I didn't speak up because I wasn't a communist. Then
they came for the Jews and I didn't speak up because
I wasn't a Jew.  Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I did not speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn't speak
up because I was a Protestant.  Then they came
for me, and by that time there was no one
left to speak for me.
"I Didn't Speak Up"
Martin Niemoeller







Friedrich Gustav Emil Martin Niemöller
1892-1984






 Stand Up, Stand Up For Jesus

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, ye soldiers of the cross;
Lift high His royal banner, it must not suffer loss.
From victory unto victory His army shall He lead,
Till every foe is vanquished, and Christ is Lord, indeed.

Stand up, stand up, for Jesus, the solemn watchword hear;
If while ye sleep He suffers, away with shame and fear;
Where 'er yet meet with evil, within you or without,
Charge for the God of battles, and put the foe to rout.

Stand up, stand up, for Jesus, the trumpet call obey;
Forth to the mighty conflict, in this His glorious day.
Ye that are brave now serve Him against unnumbered foes;
Let courage rise with danger, and strength to strength oppose.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, stand in His strength alone;
The arm of flesh will fail you, ye dare not trust your own.
Put on the Gospel armor, each piece put on with prayer;
Where duty calls or danger, be never wanting there.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, each soldier to his post,
Close up the broken column, and shout through all the host:
Make good the loss so heavy, in those that still remain,
And prove to all around you that death itself is gain.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, the strife will not be long;
This day the noise of battle, the next the victor's song.
To those who vanquish evil a crown of life shall be;
They with the King of Glory shall reign eternally.

Words by George Duffield Jr.
(1858)
Music by George J. Webb
(1830)











"For we are not wrestling with flesh and blood,
 contending only with physical opponents,
 but against despotisms, against the powers,
against the master spirits who are
 the world rulers of this present darkness,
against the spirit forces of wickedness 
in the heavenly, supernatural sphere."
Ephesian 6:12
(Amplified Bible)




Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Tefilat Haderekh: The Traveler's Prayer









Hebrew Travelers Prayer
(English Translation)

May it be Your will, Lord our God
and the God of our ancestors,
that You lead us toward peace,
guide our footsteps toward peace,
and make us reach our desired destination
for life, gladness, and peace.
May you send blessing in our handiwork,
and grant us grace, kindness, and mercy
in Your eyes, and in the eyes of
all who see us.
May Your hear the sound of
our humble request because You are God
Who hears prayer requests.
Blessed are You, Lord,
Who hears prayer.

Amen & Amen



Walkers on the Appalachian Trail





Sunday, August 13, 2017

Second Sunday Meditation: Resting In His Righteousness




"And the Lord said,
My Presence shall go with you,
and I will give you rest."
Exodus 33:14



The Better Part
Simon Dewey



Keep and protect me, O God for
in You have I found refuge, and in You
do I put my trust and hide myself.

I say to the Lord, You are my Lord;
I have no good beside or beyond You.

As for the godly, the saints, who are in the land,
they are the excellent, the noble, and the glorious,
in whom is all my delight.

Their sorrows shall be multiplied who choose another god;
their drink offerings of blood will I not offer or take
their names upon my lips.

The Lord is my chosen and assigned portion, my cup;
You hold and maintain my lot.

The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
yes, I have a good heritage.

I will bless the Lord, Who has given me counsel;
yes, my heart instructs me in the night seasons.

I have set the Lord continually before me; because He is
at my right hand, I shall not be moved.

Therefore my heart is glad and my glory, my inner self,
rejoices; my body too shall rest and confidently dwell in safety.

For You will not abandon me to Sheol, the place of the dead,
neither will You suffer Your Holy One, to see corruption.

You will show me the path of life; in Your presence is the 
fullness of joy, at Your right hand there are pleasures forevermore.

Psalm 16





Overlooking the Sea of Galilee
Israel






"For David says in regard to Him,
 I saw the Lord constantly before me,
 for He is at my right hand 
that I may not be shaken
or overthrown or cast down 
from my secure and happy state.
Therefore my heart rejoiced
 and my tongue exulted exceedingly;
moreover, my flesh also
 will dwell in hope, 
will encamp, pitch its tent,
 and dwell in hope
 in anticipation of the resurrection.
He, (David) forseeing this,
 spoke by foreknowledge of the
resurrection of the Messiah,
 that He was not deserted in death
and left in Hades,
 the state of departed spirits,
 nor did His body know 
decay or see destruction. 
This Jesus God raised up, 
and of that all we,
 His disciples, are witnesses."
Acts 2:25,26,27,31,32






"And the effect of righteousness 
will be peace, internal and external, 
and the result of righteousness will
be quietness and confident trust forever.
My people shall dwell in peaceable habitation,
in safe dwellings, and in quiet resting places."
Isaiah 33:17-18





Meadow in the Golan Heights
Israel




Friday, August 11, 2017

Softly & Tenderly



"Jesus said to her,
"I am the Resurrection and the Life.
Whoever believes in Me although he may die,
yet shall he live.
And whoever continues to live and believes
in Me shall never die."
John 11:25-26


Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling
Calling for you and for me;
See, on the portals He's waiting and watching,
Watching for you and for me.

Come home, come home,
You who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!

Why should we tarry when Jesus is pleading,
Pleading for you and for me?
Why should we linger and heed not His mercies,
Mercies for you and for me?

Come home, come home,
You who are weary come home;
Earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling
Calling, O sinner, come home!

Time is now fleeting, the moments are passing,
Passing from you and from me;
Shadows are gathering, deathbeds are coming,
Coming for you and for me.

Come home, come home,
You who are weary come home;
Earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling
Calling, O sinner, come home!

O for the wonderful love He has promised,
Promised for you and for me!
Though we have sinned, He has mercy and pardon,
Pardon for you and  for me.

Come home, come home,
You who are weary come home;
Earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling
Calling, O sinner, come home!





Glen Travis Campbell
April 22, 1936- August 8, 2017
Resting safely at home with Jesus








"Softly and Tenderly Jesus Is Calling"
Words and Music by Will Thompson
(1880)



The Touch Of The Master's Hand





300 year old Antonio Stradivari violin
as seen at the Christie's Auction House
in New York City



'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But 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 loose strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said: "What am I bid for the 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," said he.
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand
What changed it's 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 the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
A "mess of pottage" a glass of wine;
A game-and he travels on.
He is "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's wrought
By the touch of the Master's hand.




Forgiveness
Thomas Blackshear






"The Touch Of The Master's Hand"
 A poem by Myra Brooks Welch






Thursday, August 10, 2017

Sign of the Seahorse






Beyond the ken of mortal men
beneath the wind and waves...





Fantasy Under The Sea
 A painting by EverIris




There lies a land of shells and sand,
of chasms, crags, and caves,
Where coral castles climb and soar
where swaying seaweeds grow,
And all around, without a sound,
the ocean currents flow...

From The Sign of the Seahorse
By Graeme Base







Just A Little Love
A painting by Robin Pushe'e