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Archive for October, 2008

“O Happy Day”  (stanza 4)

Now rest, my long divided heart,
Fixed on this blissful center, rest.
Here have I found a nobler part;
Here heavenly pleasures fill my breast.

Philip Doddridge, D.D. Aberdeen University, 1736, died 10/26/1751

– buried Lisbon, Portugal.

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The Cross is the dividing point between the

          OLD Testament and the NEW Testament.

 

The Cross is the dividing point between the

          OLD life (sinner) and the NEW life (saint).                                                                          – eab, 10/08

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The mighty oak from an acorn came,

Bursting, throbbing, growing in strain;

Pulled up by the light, pushed up by the rain.

It didn’t happen over night.

 

No stalwart man is instant made.

It takes pressure, decisions, days of shade;

Pulled up by prayer, pushed by reading, rare.

Small souls and fires quickly fade.  -eab, 9/75

 

Written in Friendsville, Tennessee

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“Now, a man with a fixed heart is not only natural, but he is as bold as a lion; he neither fears men nor devils. He now has the courage of his conviction; he will wash out his mouth, and tear off his lodge pin, and vote the Prohibition ticket. Even if he knows that the man that he voted for would not be elected, he would rather vote for a cleanProhi­bitionist and get defeated in the election than to vote for a rum seller and elect him, and you would, too, if you are natural and bold.”

 

– Bud Robinson, Honey in the Rock (Cincinnati: God’s Revivalist Press, 1913), 103.

 

Underlining mine.  You can remove “Prohi­bitionist,” “rum seller” in the above and apply it to the 21st century.  THINK ABOUT it.  Must we always vote for the lesser of too evils?  (Too is purposely here.)

 

Uncle Buddy was a famous, Tennessee born, Nazarene Evangelist.  He is the holiness preacher I’ve heard most quoted by Baptist ministers. 

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Sinners in trouble call on God,

Whether on rough sea or hot sod.

It seems a natural reaction;

Their soul’s only satisfaction,

Though last week prayer would’ve seemed odd. -eab, 11/7/07

 

Written in Westfield, Indiana

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If you are going to die right,

You have to live right,

And righteous here below.

If you expect to go up,

You have to pray up;

We always reap what we sow!

If you want God,

Read the Word of God;

Walk, walk in the light.

Be sure to do, 

What you know to do,

With all your will and might. -eab,  10/72

 

Written while Principal of Wyandot Christian School, Ohio

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Suffield wrote

“Little Is Much When God Is In It”

 

Refrain:

Little is much when God is in it!
Labor not for wealth or fame.
There’s a crown—and you can win it,
If you go in Jesus’ Name.

 

She also wrote “Have You Started for Glory and Heaven?”

She married Frederick Suffield, a Canadian; the two worked some with George Beverly Shea.   

 

 

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The devil lies – he calls that “rosy” – which is lep rosy.

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The wind delivered a seed,

(Though nature’s not known for speed)

To a notch in the niche of time.

Delivered its parent weed,

Of what is commonly feed,

For the fowls of the southern clime.

 

Its diameter was flat,

As it lit with a “splat,”

On the aqua that was color lime.

But its profile changed – fat,

As it stood and later sat,

On the comfortable, friendly, bottom slime.

 

All the minerals that were due,

Were there with water too,

Standing well above its newly budded head.

And the warmth that filtered through,

From the sun and wind that blew,

Found it lying, living on its bed.

 

It grew straight and tall,

And the roots – it let them fall,

Opposite of the way the stem had led.

It answered maturity’s strong call,

And produced its one small ball,

Before it left the living for the dead.

 

Now that might have been the end,

Of the tale that I rend,

If there had not been an arthropod,

Who came, the stem to bend,

And tether it to a “friend,”

Out there many yards from sod.

 

The spider’s personal trail,

That descended from his tail,

Took hold of each slim sturdy rod;

Made a home that looked quite frail,

But could withstand any gale,

As planned by The Architect – God.

 

The slender, cylinder, tower died

And in its death was satisfied,

Propagating its own peasant herd.

Little knowing, its form complied,

To the arachnids web that tied

It with another, and then a third.

 

Men may likewise thoughtless be,

About what they leave, effecting eternity;

Failing to understand what has occurred.

Having eyes that cannot see,

Often like you, and like me,

Not giving others a place to gird.  -eab, 10/69

 

Written after dove hunting, west of Hobe Sound, Florida

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Every sinner who hears of a Sinless One,

Every father who hears God had a Son,

Every planner who hears Redemption’s is done,

                Is drawn to Christ.

 

The only way to reach heaven’s door,

The only way to tread the golden “floor,”

The only way to enjoy Redemption and more,

                Is through the blood of Christ.

 

Christ is the Key to heaven’s lock,

Christ is the pure Shepherd of a pure flock,

Christ is the center of creations calendar and clock,

                The only hope for all is Christ.  -eab,  1/21/2005

 

Written in Yoshkar Ola, Russia (while visiting the Hausmans). 

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