Worldy no more!

* EVERY man stops being worldly *

 

– Either when he voluntarily

 

                drops it for Jesus Christ.

 

– Or when the “world” is PRIED

 

                from his cold, dying fingers.

 

– eab, 3/26/10

Read Full Post »

Heaven’s Attraction

On the distant horizon it has dimly shone

Heaven – is it your goal, alone,

Or have you talked to Him via “telephone”

Have you prayed un-uttered words – a groan?

Do you want to see Him face to face,

Who on Mount Calvary hung in your place?

Heaven without Him is a selfish goal.

Christ is the true attraction of the tempered soul.

                – eab, 3/18/08

Read Full Post »

Rodney “Gipsy” Smith – birth, Mar. 31, 1860

Christ, the Transforming Light,

Touches this heart of mine,  

Piercing the darkest night,

Making His glory shine.

Refrain:

Oh, to reflect His grace

Causing the world to see

Love that will glow,

Till others shall know

Jesus revealed in me.

Rodney “Gipsy” Smith born was born this date, 3/31/1860, in a gyp­sy tent, in Ep­ping For­est, near Wanstead (6 miles northeast of London).  His father, Cornelius (yet unconverted) told his mother (as she was dying) how to be saved and she was.  Later he was converted and (when Rodney was about 15) Cornelius let his son to Christ. 

After a stint with the Salvation Army, Gipsy became a Methodist evangelist and traveled to several countries preaching and singing.  He was in American a number of times.  In fact, he was on his way here when he died, aboard the Queen Ma­ry 8/4/1947.

 A quote attributed to Smith says, “Anyone can preach to a crowd, but it takes the grace of God to preach to one man.”

Read Full Post »

Which Do YOU Want?

Parental love and consistency,

 

makes the difference between

 

            a Wild child

 

or         a Mild child.

 

– eab, 9/22/09       

Read Full Post »

ADVENT OF SPRING

The grass has taken a turn for the greener,

And the daffodils have turned up in form.

The crocus is its beautiful self,

And forsythias no longer mourn.

The air is warm with that kind of aire,

That promises a bright tomorrow,

While the frogs in the bogs croak up a tune,

They surely didn’t borrow.

Birds on wing, jubilantly sing,

The advent of spring.                         

                – eab, 3/29/80

Read Full Post »

Ray Palmer – Death, Mar. 29, 1887

My faith looks up to Thee,
Thou Lamb of Calvary, Savior divine!
Now hear me while I pray, take all my guilt away,
O let me from this day be wholly Thine!

May Thy rich grace impart
Strength to my fainting heart, my zeal inspire!
As Thou hast died for me, O may my love to Thee,
Pure warm, and changeless be, a living fire!

While life’s dark maze I tread,
And griefs around me spread, be Thou my Guide;
Bid darkness turn to day, wipe sorrow’s tears away,
Nor let me ever stray from Thee aside.

When ends life’s transient dream,
When death’s cold sullen stream over me roll;
Blest Savior, then in love, fear and distrust remove;
O bear me safe above, a ransomed soul! 

Ray Palmer died 3/29/1887, at Newark, New Jersey.  Palmer attended Phillips Andover Academy (he and Oliver Wendell Holmes were classmates there) and Yale University.  He taught at a young ladies’ school (New York) and at a ladies’ college (Connecticut).  Later Palmer was ordained a Congregational minister (1835) and pastored in Bath, Maine and Albany, New York.

Palmer wrote the above lyrics about the time he graduated from Yale (21 years of age).  It is said that Mason (a couple of years later) met Palmer on a street in Boston, and asked him to write something for a new hymnal.  Palmer gave him these words.  Mason is reported to have told Palmer, “You may live many years and do many good things, but I think you will be best known to posterity as the author of “My Faith Looks Up to Thee,” a correct prophesy.  Song has been translated into over twenty (20) languages.  Ray was born 11/12/1808, at Little Compton, Rhode Island.

Read Full Post »

“You look like your dad!”

Eventually we all look like our Father –

 

* Developing like the Divine

or 

* Drug down like the dragon.           

 

– eab, 2/25/10

Read Full Post »

WAR

In olden days when man fought man,

With the nearest that came to hand,

Some smithy still had it to make,

That shovel, ax, scythe or that rake.

Each item in the above list,

Was more “effective” than a fist,

Yet it readily meets the eye,

Their right use was in farm or sty.

 

Man learned to make, in later yore,

Cold instruments only for war.

The shield, the spear, the two-edged sword,

Made this man dead, the other lord.

Again there’s a weapons maker,

Some ancient “mover and shaker,”

Made the sword sooner blooded-red,

“Creating” rows of grisly dead. 

 

Then gunpowder was invented;

Rage could be distantly vented.

Killing was done at longer range,

Only the weapon had a change.

It still had a human who made,

The gun which pulled down death’s cold shade. 

More made, the more he was able,

To stack gold upon his table.

 

Behind every gun of war’s time,

Behind the soldier’s funeral chime,

Lives a man who’s making his gold,

From killing machines he’s just sold.

Bigger they are the more they cost,

Now more husbands and sons are lost,

But you dare not once forget it,

The cash – they don’t once regret it!

 

Money’s made “by bundles” in war, 

That’s a big reason for the gore.

Many die while a few get rich,

(Don’t buy the “political pitch,”)

Greedy men lie at home in ease,

Buying most anything they please,

While sons, boyfriends die there forlorn,

And a nation’s glory is shorn.

 

Eternity will soon reveal,

The weapons maker’s crooked deal.

Greedily making a “huge pile,”

Caring little that after while,

Boys come back in box after box,

Never again to hunt the fox,

Weapons were sold at twice the price?

Selfish old men think that quite nice.

 

“Follow the money” saying goes,

Is true also for war’s sad throes.

Push the battle, shoot the next shell,

(Thus sending many to hot hell)

Matters not to the money king,

More weapon sales, make him to sing,

While on yon hill a widow weeps ─

O, the blood-money of war creeps. 

                – eab, Mar. ‘06

Read Full Post »

Duncan Campbell – death, Mar. 28, 1972

 “Is God real to you?  …Oh, tell me is God the supreme reality in your experience?”

            – Andrew Woolsey, Duncan Campbell (London: Hodder & Stroughton,1974), 32.

“We are the ambassadors of eternity in the courts of time…it is our business to permeate the courts of time with the atmosphere of eternity.”

             – Andrew Woolsey, Duncan Campbell (London: Hodder & Stroughton,1974), 64.

“Preach the Word! Sing the Word! Live the Word, anything outside of this has no sanction in heaven.”

            – Andrew Woolsey, Duncan Campbell (London: Hodder & Stroughton,1974), 152.

“The New Testament reveals Jesus as a realist.  He will never be popular.”

            – Andrew Woolsey, Duncan Campbell (London: Hodder & Stroughton,1974), 190.

Duncan Campbell died this date, 3/28/1972, Cantonal Hospital, Lausanne, Switzerland. He was born 2/13/1898, near Ardchattan Church, Scotland.  He married his wife, Shona, in December 1925, at Glasgow, Scotland.  God used him bringing revival and hunger for revival, in more than one country including the USA.

Read Full Post »

Sun Light – SON Light

The sun lights all –

all that is not clouded

by EARTH’S interference.

– eab, 2/19/10

Read Full Post »