Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Cincinnati’

God nowhere tells to give up things for the sake of giving them up…give them up for…the only thing worth having–viz. life with Him.

                – Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (NY: Dodd, 1935), 8.

 

The greatest competitor of devotion to Jesus is service for Him.

                – Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (NY: Dodd, 1935), 18.

 

If you are depending upon anything but Him [God], you will never know when He is gone.            – Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (NY: Dodd, 1935), 20.

 

Get into the habit of saying, “Speak, Lord,” and life will become a romance.

                – Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (NY: Dodd, 1935), 30.

 

…Sanctification…an intense narrowing of all our interests on earth and an immense broadening of all our interests in God.

                – Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (NY: Dodd, 1935), 39.

 

 

Oswald Chambers was born this date, 7/24/1874 at Aberdeen, Scotland.  He taught briefly at God’s Bible School in Cincinnati, Ohio.  He spent the last two years of his life serving as a YMCA secretary among soldiers in Egypt, during WWI. Chamber’s wife, Biddy, was an expert in shorthand and was able to catch many of his talks at Zeitoun Camp (outside Cairo) in print.  His My Utmost for His Highest is one of the most popular devotionals in print.  He died in Egypt 11/15/1917.

Read Full Post »

When the toils of life are over,
And we lay our armor down,
And we bid farewell to earth with all its cares,
We shall meet and greet our loved ones,
And our Christ we then shall crown,
In the new Jerusalem.

Refrain

There’ll be singing, there’ll be shouting
When the saints come marching home,
In Jerusalem, in Jerusalem,
Waving palms with loud hosannas
As the King shall take His throne,
In the new Jerusalem.

2. Though the way is sometimes lonely,
He will hold me with His hand,
Through the testings and the trials I must go.
But I’ll trust and gladly follow,
For sometime I’ll understand,
In the new Jerusalem.

3. When the last goodbye is spoken
And the tear stains wiped away,
And our eyes shall catch a glimpse of glory fair,
Then with bounding hearts we’ll meet Him
Who hath washed our sins away,
In the new Jerusalem.

4. When we join the ransomed army
In the summer land above,
And the face of our dear Savior we behold,
We will sing and shout forever,
And we’ll grow in perfect love,
In the new Jerusalem.

C B (Charles Brenton) Widmeyer was born this date, 7/19/1884 at Morgan, WV. 

He attended God’s Bible School (Cincinnati, OH), was Pre­sident of Point Lo­ma Na­za­rene Un­i­versity (CA), and later was chair­man of the Na­za­rene De­part­ment of Min­is­ter­i­al Re­lief (1923-48).  He also wrote the words and music to “Come and Dine.”  

Wid­mey­er died De­cem­ber 14, 1974, at Los An­ge­les, Cal­i­for­nia.

Read Full Post »

I looked around at the sky tonight,

At the time just before the dark.

I looked to see the stars bright;

They always thrill my heart.

 

I looked but the sky was bare.

It seemed I looked in vain;

As if there were no stars up there,

At least none that were plain.

 

But then – What I “seeked,”

A pin-hole in the sky.

As if you had a bucket that leaked,

And were searching the reason why.

 

And then, close, another light appeared,

Couldn’t be far.

Two, to light the night,

The duty of a star.

 

There must be many more out;

Now, the sky must be ablaze.

As these silently “shout,”

His glory and His praise.  – eab, 3/1966

Written in Cincinnati, Ohio while working on my Bachelors (literature major) at God’s Bible School and College.

Read Full Post »

I’ve known the joy that only a boy                    

Could feel – the swing of a vine. [1]

That’s entwined in a tree, for lads like me

To discover and enjoy. (Age?  Nine.)

 

I’ve felt the soft nose of a horse at repose,

And jumped o’er the hindquarters bare. [2]

And ridden baby cows or even some sows, [3]

When the farmer or owner wasn’t there.

 

I’ve enjoyed the snow fall; drifts fences tall,

And the resulting thrill – no bus! [4]

Sat with my feet on the oven door for heat,

That coal stove with ashes and fuss. [5]

 

I’ve ridden through a bridge o’er the blue [6]

That was covered and painted red.

Or walked or ran the bare-planked span;

That inside looked like a shed.

 

Ah, and, I’ve felt the pain of a leaving train,

When my lover was inside. [7]

And watched the last light till out of sight,

Then turned on my heel and cried.

 

I’ve stood still and wet on the date set,

Waiting for that girl in white.

Perspiring that season, for more than one reason,

On the year’s last, hot, June night. [8]

 

I’ve relished the smell of fall as it fell,

Time after burning-leaf time,

And drank cider sweet; it was hard to beat

Soft, amber, pure, sublime.

 

I’ve been privileged to hold the tiny mold

From which God makes a man.

And knew that his name and mine were the same;

Twenty-one years the span. [9]

 

I’ve known what it means to have little but beans

And then miss a bean with a dip.

To have cookies is nice – but because of the price

A cookie without a chocolate chip. [10]

 

I’ve walked the drifting miles; mid frowns & now smiles

Of students on Saturday hikes. [11]

Or joined them near nine, asphalt roads to entwine

On our trusty, but soon tiring bikes. [12]

 

I’ve been privileged to be three years near the sea.

O!  The smell of salt in the air!

See it calm or forlorn or white-cappy in storm,

Return with it still in my hair.

 

I’ve walked up with pain the inclined plain

Of a mountain’s bristly backbone.

Provisions in pack on my back,

Miles and hours from a phone. [13]

 

I’ve met and do know some of Christ’s best below

Saints, yes, saints above sod.

Who’ve worked in love, His power to prove,

Before they go home to God.

 

That’s not all I’ve had as a boy or a dad

There are, I’m sure, many more

In thirty one years, many joys, a few tears,

Since birth to seventy-four.       -eab,  2/10/74

 

[1] Off the edge of one of Uncle Wallace and Aunt Em’s fields on the farm off Stage Coach road (parallel with US 22.)

[2] At Mark Ricketts house, my school mate 1952-1957

[3] At Mark Rickett’s to which I’d walk (3-4 miles) to play.

[4] Drifts were from fencepost top to fencepost top in 1950.

[5] Stove also had reservoir for heating water on side.

[6] Was the first kid on and last one off so passed through covered bridge four times a day for most of five years (over 3500 passes).

[7] Union Terminal about 1960, Cincinnati, watching my sweet Martha head home for the summer. Took her there in a taxi.

[8] The church was not air conditioned on June 30, 1961.

[9] Andrew (also called “Charlie Brown”) It was not my idea to name him after me but since Martha wanted that, made him E. Andrew.

[10] Not complaining but times were slim back then.

[11] Hobe high school biology students and I would hike Jupiter Island from the end of the road to the island’s end (approximately 10 miles) specimens they found were theirs – fun belonged to all of us!

[12] Biology kids on bike hikes in Jonathan Dickinson Park. 

[13] Hiked the entire AT (Appalachian Trail) through the Smokies but this particular memory is when Carson, Dan, Andrew, and I ascending Thunderhead on a Christmas vacation trip. 


Read Full Post »

Winter is almost synonymous

With a four letter word: Snow.  

It seems that the first cannot be,

Without the other to blow, and blow.

 

Sometimes it comes down

As downy as pillow fluff,

Nearly as large as pennies and dimes

And, OH! such beautiful “stuff.”

 

When it lights on your sleeve,

Or your tall hat or coat,

Its structure marvelous and crystalline,

But, ah, Don’t you stroke,

 

For it will melt soon enough,

From its perfect individual shape,

And another that is now falling

It place, at your attention, will take.

 

Then there is the fine snow,

As fine as ground flour.

Which so neatly covers the ground

In a short time; maybe an hour.

 

Of course, there are deep snows,

And long snows and short.

And snows in valleys and hills,

And on mountainous resorts.

 

But in whatever form or manner it comes,

Each has its purpose to bring.

So use it, enjoy it, and make snow men;

Or go out in the evening a carol to sing.        – eab, ’64 NOV

Written while studying for my BA in Literature, Cincinnati, Ohio

Read Full Post »

Tall, empty, and bare,

Are the trees.

That each had their share,

Of green leaves,

To cover skeleton rough,

And supply food enough.

 

Now the trees stand undressed;

Evening’s come.

Time to stop and rest,

Work is done.

Time to lay clothes down,

With a faint rustling sound.

 

And now a new cover’s there,

On each limb;

Laid with mother’s natural care.

Light is dim.

A blanket of snowy fluff,

The night’s brisk cold to bluff. – eab, 11/1966

Penned in Cincinnati, Ohio while pursuing a A B in Literature at God’s Bible School & College

Read Full Post »

That night the snow came down.

It covered the branches,

But left the bottom brown.

And piled up on limb and twig

Until they looked,

Twice as big

As real life.

It’s “kind-a” funny you know,

What shapes we see,

After a snow.   –eab, 12/’64

Written while working on my Bachelors (in literature) at God’s Bible School, Cincinnati, OH. 

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »