What’s Happ’nin’ – With You?

Some things will transpire,

 

     others expire,

 

               when we aspire,

 

                        for God to inspire!  

– eab, 3/79

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Jonah

He did not let the Lord prevail,

Instead he paid fare to sail.

Old salts tried to row,

But finally did throw

The prophet, to stop the wild gale. Jon 1.15

                – eab, 3/3/05

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Lewis Hartsough – birth, Aug. 31, 1828

I hear Thy welcome voice
That calls me, Lord, to Thee,
For cleansing in Thy precious blood
That flowed on Calvary.

Refrain

I am coming Lord!
Coming now to Thee!
Wash me, cleanse me in the blood
That flowed on Calvary!

2. Though coming weak and vile,
Thou dost my strength assure;
Thou dost my vileness fully cleanse,
Till spotless all, and pure.

3. ’Tis Jesus calls me on
To perfect faith and love,
To perfect hope and peace and trust,
For earth and Heav’n above.

4. ’Tis Jesus Who confirms
The blessèd work within,
By adding grace to welcomed grace,
Where reigned the power of sin.

5. And He the witness gives
To loyal hearts and free
That every promise is fulfilled,
If faith but brings the plea.

6. All hail! atoning blood!
All hail! redeeming grace!
All hail! the gift of Christ our Lord,
Our Strength and Righteousness.

Lewis Hartsough was born this date, 8/31/1828 at Ithaca, NY.  He was a Methodist who graduated from Cazenovia Seminary (1852) and pastored churches in the Oneida Conference.  He requested transfer to the West, was appointed to the Utah Mission and later was pre­sid­ing el­der of the Wy­om­ing Dis­trict.  “I Am Coming, Lord” Sankey wrote “The words and mu­sic of this beau­ti­ful hymn were first pub­lished in a month­ly, en­ti­tled, Guide to Ho­li­ness, a co­py of which was sent to me in Eng­land.”  Hartsough died 1/1/1919 at Mount Ver­non, IA.

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Don’t be fooled

From the “best” beast

 

          to the least beast,

 

                   a beast is – – –

 

                             still a beast!

-8/26/09

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Ancient Book

I’ve found an ancient, timely Book,

On Its pages I daily look.

It gives advise for married folk,

Agrees that salt goes with the yolk,

Encourages a carefulness,

Lifts one up when in distress.

Gives wisdom to all who ask,

Wearing Its “yoke” is not a task.

Will you also read this great Book?

You’ll never regret Its ways you took.

                – eab, 8/07

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William Clark Martin – death, Aug. 30, 1914

Though the angry surges roll
On my tempest driven soul,
I am peaceful, for I know,
Wildly though the winds may blow,
I’ve an anchor safe and sure,
That can evermore endure.

Refrain

And it holds, my anchor holds:
Blow your wildest, then, O gale,
On my bark so small and frail;
By His grace I shall not fail,
For my anchor holds, my anchor holds.

Mighty tides about me sweep,
Perils lurk within the deep,
Angry clouds o’ershade the sky,
And the tempest rises high;
Still I stand the tempest’s shock,
For my anchor grips the rock.

I can feel the anchor fast
As I meet each sudden blast,
And the cable, though unseen,
Bears the heavy strain between;
Through the storm I safely ride,
Till the turning of the tide.

Troubles almost ’whelm the soul;
Griefs like billows o’er me roll;
Tempters seek to lure astray;
Storms obscure the light of day:
But in Christ I can be bold,
I’ve an anchor that shall hold.

William Clark Martin died this date, 8/30/1914, at Ri­al­to, Florida.  Martin pas­tored Grace Bap­tist Church (for­mer­ly Cra­mer’s Hill), Cam­den, New Jer­sey, No­ank Bap­tist Church, Noank, Con­nec­ti­cut,  Grace Bap­tist Church, Som­er­ville, Massachusetts and First Bap­tist Church, Fort My­ers, Florida. (He seems to have had some connection also with Bluff­ton, In­di­a­na.)  He also wrote “The Name of Jesus” “Still Sweeter Every Day” and at least 30 other songs.  He was born 12/25/1864 at Hights­town, New Jersey.

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Watch the Guy

Watch the guy who mixes

 

          health potions

 

          – with wealth notions.                        

- eab, 8/7/09

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DEATH – ONCE RARE

Time was when one, my life had flown,

(And her, Grandma, I’d hardly known).

Death had only one beyond life’s shore;

But alas, that time is no more.

 

Years tocked by before another,

(He was my only brother);

Left the living for the dead.

Seventeen years his tombstone said.

 

Two more of my grandparents died,

(Death had life again defied) 

Before school days were through,

Grisly death was no longer “new.”

 

Uncles, Aunts kept slipping away,

(during college, and since that day)

Until death had taken them all;

Like the last leaf in the fall.

 

Now, only a few days go by,

(Death, you will someday die.)

Just a few days or weeks apart,

News comes, another did depart.

 

Now many I have known in life,

(Most in joy – OK, a few in strife.)

Have taken the flight up – or down,

To meet Heaven’s smile or Its frown. 

 

What once was rare, an unknown thing,

(Death, you WILL loose your sting.)

Has become too well-known of late.

Death, the caller at ever gate.

 

Death follows also on my trail.

(By “slow freight” or airline’s sail)

Sooner or later my friends will hear,

That death for me came near, too near.

 

And when that news shall quickly flow,

(You know how death’s tidings go)

God, in thy mercy, let my last flight be.

Upward, always to be with Thee.

                – eab, 8/29/99

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Oliver W Holmes – birth, 8/29/1809

O Love divine, that stooped to share
Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear!
On Thee we cast each earthborn care;
We smile at pain while Thou art near.

Though long the weary way we tread,
And sorrow crown each lingering year,
No path we shun, no darkness dread,
Our hearts still whispering, “Thou art near!”

When drooping pleasure turns to grief,
And trembling faith is changed to fear,
The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf,
Shall softly tell us Thou art near!

On Thee we fling our burdening woe,
O Love divine, forever dear!
Content to suffer while we know,
Living and dying, Thou art near!

Oliver W Holmes was born this date, 8/29/1809, Cam­bridge, Mass­a­chu­setts.  He was professor of ana­to­my and phys­i­ol­o­gy and later dean at Har­vard Med­i­cal School.  He was a poet – wrote “Old Ironsides” and “The Chambered Nautilus.”  (His son Ol­i­ver Wen­dell Holmes, Jr. became Su­preme Court Jus­tice.)  Holmes died 10/7/1894, Bos­ton, Mass­a­chu­setts.

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Endure or ENJOY?

The foolish Endure religion today –

 

            Trying to miss hell “tomorrow.”

 

The wise Enjoy CHRIST today –

 

            and will Enjoy HIM forever ! ! !

 

– eab, 8/26/09

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