Bob Jones – born

ON THIS DATE

Robert Reynolds “Bob” Jones was born 10/30/1883 at Shipperville, AL.  He was converted at 11, appointed Sunday school superintendent at 12 and ordained at 15 by the Methodists.  Bob, a fundamentalist Methodist, was a good speaker, fast thinker, and became a good debater. 

His ministry took him to every state in the Union and to thirty other countries.  In 1926 he founded Bob Jones College (now BJU) originally in Florida, but after two moves it settled in Greenville, South Carolina.  He died in 1968.

Jones Quotes:

The acid test of our love for God is obedience to His Word.

Trust God as if it all depends upon Him, and work as if it all depends upon you.

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We Shall Shine as the Stars

We may tarry awhile here as strangers,
Unnoticed by those who pass by;
But the Savior will crown us in glory,
To shine as the stars in the sky.

We shall shine as the stars of the morning,
With Jesus the Crucified One;
We shall rise to be like Him forever,
Eternally shine as the sun.

We may never be rich in earth’s treasures,
Nor rise on the ladder of fame;
But the saints will at last be rewarded,
Made rich in Immanuel’s Name.

We may live in a tent or a cottage,
And die in seclusion alone;
But the Father Who seeth in secret,
Remembers each one of His own.

Judson Wheeler Van DeVenter died this date, 7/17/1939, at Tampa, Florida.  Van DeVenter attended HillsdaleCollegeand taught art (Sharon, PA).  Later he moved into the field of evangelism.  Among others he worked with Wilbur Chapman.

Though born nearDundee,Michigan(12/5/1855), he in later years was drawn toFloridaliving inSt. Petersburgand laterTampa.  He also served as professor of hymnology at the Florida Bible Institute (nowTrinityBibleCollege) a period of four years.

In addition to the above he wrote “I Surrender All”  “I Wandered in the Shades of Night”  “The Heart That Was Broken for Me”  “Looking This Way”  “My Mother’s Prayer”  “Sweeping This Way.”

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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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Four Years

Four years have past, fast as light,

Since you – and you began.

Play and work, day and night;

How swiftly they all ran.

Graduations – Congratulations!

          – eab, 5/68

Written as I finished my first year of teaching at Hobe Sound Bible College, Florida.

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Just Christmas, Again

Is it just Christmas, again,

In a world of war and sin?

Another year of tinsel and paper,

Of glamorous gifts (paid for later)

Of loveless homes and empty lives,

And husbands separate from their wives?

Another day, the same as last,

The only difference, a year has past?

 

No, this year can be,

A joyous, Christian reality.

A year when Christ is personal,

Yes, more than an a year, eternal,

The Lord of your life, and heart.

If not now, then now start.        -eab, 11/67

Written while instructor of literature at Hobe Sound Bible College, Martin County, Florida.

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Lord of Thanksgiving

Tis a blessing to me and my kin

To have food, tall pantry and bin.

Our store is thick, not lean nor thin,

For all this I praise you Lord,

Living, Giving, Loving Lord.

 

It’s good to have clothes and more,

In dresser and behind closet door,

And shoes and boots on scattered floor,

For abundance I thank you Lord,

Great, Gallant and Faithful Lord.

 

Of far more blessings (by miles not feet),

Is the mate you allowed me to meet,

And four little Bryans to make us complete,

Thou who lovest family, Creative Lord,

My thanks for being a Love-making Lord.

 

Most of all I’m so grateful to be,

Redeemed and passed through my own Red Sea,

Through “Jordan” you also have guided me,

Redeeming and Sanctifying Lord, my Lord,

You surely deserve all the praise I afford. – eab, 11/24/99

   

Written at Hobe Sound, Florida 

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A Grandkid’s Thanks

Thank you God for ten fingers, and my running toes,

Thank you for my two big ears and my runny nose.

Thank you for the hair on my head,

And for sentences my eyes have read,

Thanks for the words my tongue just said,

And thank You for my tummy–well fed.

 

Thank you for the good Mother of mine,

Who does my cloths and supper so fine.

Thank You God for my grand ole dad

Though at times he makes me sad,

Spanking (he thinks I’m been bad!)

All other hours he makes me glad.

 

Thank You God for your Holy Bible,

Because by it our family is able,

To read the promises that are very old,

To hear the story of David so bold,

Be warned to be either hot or cold,

And read of parables which are ten-fold.

 

And Lord, I’d really be remiss,

(Image my grandchild saying this.)

If I forgot to thank You for

Gram and Gramp (wish they lived next door).

Thanks for cousins, aunts, uncles and more,

Thanks for blessings, blessings galore.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING ! ! !

            -Gramp, Thursday, November 23, 2000.

Written while Associate Professor of Bible, Hobe Sound Bible College, Florida

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Temple Talk

He went into the temple

Where you’d think one could look up.

But his attitude was humble,

He saw “dregs” in his cup.

 

He asked God for mercy;

He beat upon his chest,

Called himself a sinner

(Not better than the rest).

 

He cast his eyes downward,

They sought the lowly ground.

But God, who measures all things:

The simple, the profound,

 

Liked his honest spirit,

Heard his call and cry,

Knew he meant his temple-talk,

Knew it more than “humble pie,”

 

And justified his soul;

He went back to his own place,

With a calm in his heart,

And heaven’s smile upon his face.

 

Friend, the next time you go to meeting,

The next time you’re in church

Avoid petty piousness,

Avoid the highest perch.

 

Look at God, worship Him,

And see yourself contrasted,

As this man of old did. 

His grace has ever lasted.            – eab, 5/2000

 

Written while Associate Professor Bible at Hobe Sound Bible College, Florida

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Spider Web

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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Jehovah the One

The Greeks had a god for rain,

And another one for the sun.

And why did they have two?

Because it is plain

Zeus and Helios weren’t big enough to do,

The work of Jehovah, The One.   -eab, 4/1968

 

Written while teaching literature at Hobe Sound Bible College, Florida.

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