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Posts Tagged ‘Kingston’

Oh, how to describe the man Cain,

His life was sad and vain.

His soul was unstable.

He killed brother Able,

And answered God back without pain.

-eab, 3/3/05 

 

Written on Princess Street in Kingston, ON

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You cannot live another’s life,

Strive ever so hard, live ever so long;

You can never feel their pain, or sing their song.

You have your own terrific life to live,

Your own personal niche to fulfill;

Give it, Friend, all your ability.

Give your great life all your forceful, free will.

He, who gave you your life, loves you still!  – eab, 1/3/07

 

Written while pastoring a church in Kingston, Ontario, Canada – an interesting and educational experience and (I hope for one or more) a soul inspiring time as well.

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Born the King above everything,

A King, though in a stable,

Born so poor, beyond inn door,

So poor – and yet so able!   -eab, 12/19/06

Written while pastoring in Kingston, Ontario, Canada

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Men who feel quite adequate

To tell you which “i” to dot,

To tell you what you are to do – not;

Ought also to be able,

To tell you how humbly to praise,

How in quietude and true gratitude

You should voice and hands raise.

We lack not in “liners up,”

And men who love that line,

We need men who will lead to worship,

Men who live and love in the divine.

Oh, may the incense of my heart,

Toward heaven daily depart!      -eab, 1/3/07

Written while pastoring with the Pilgrim Holiness in Kingston, Ontario.

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They did not seek for wisdom –

            They were then called wise.

They did not seek for mean wealth –

            They already had that prize.

They did not seek for His wonders –

            Wonders had not yet begun.

They came to Him to worship Him –

            For that, they made their long “run.”  – eab, 12/2/06

 

Written while the Pilgrim pastor in Kingston, Ontario, Canada

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When you’re tempted to look down,

                                                       Look up.

When you’re tempted to wear a frown,

                                                      Look up.

When your friends seem to be few,

When sunshine fails to come through,

When you don’t know what else to do,

                                                      Look up.    -eab, 5/20/07

 

Written when I pastored the Kingston Pilgrim Holiness Church, Ontario, Canada

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There are men of phenomenal wealth,

Some gained honestly, others by stealth.

Men who can buy and sell a whole town.

Their fortune seems to have never turned down.

If we don’t watch, we can envy such “blokes”

As more “lucky” than the rest of us folks.

 

Money is just a means to an end.

It can’t make a “home,” or a marriage mend.

We place too great an imagined high,

On money, gold, and what silver can buy,

Blinded by dollar $ign$ we fail to see,

In wealth, they’re no richer than you and me.

 

Time, dear friend, is the truest treasure;

The rich and poor receive the same measure.

Each start their day with a fresh supply

Of hours which drag or go flying by.

“Money Bags” has no more time in this day,

Than the poor: close or a continent away.

 

Each of us should value time, make it count;

No one has more – no one a less amount.

Time may yield you marriage, happiness, a wife,

Money can’t even buy a slight sliver of life.

God’s given “today” – use  it wisely, every hour.

Time, not money, has true-value power.  -eab, 11/3/06

 

Written when I pastored the Kingston Pilgrim Holiness Church, Ontario, Canada 

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