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Posts Tagged ‘Lincoln’

                  Golden  Days

           

   H  How can one hope to ever present, 

   A  All that’s happened, event to event?      

   P  Pretty high school girl, Winton Woods “date.”

   P  Pretty Tennessee bride, life’s soul mate.

   Y  Young marriage?  Yes.  God, His wisdom sent.

 

 F  Finances were often super tight

 I  In spite of work and homemaker’s might.

 F  Finished (always wed) B. A. degree,

T  Teaching Hobe’s literature was to be.

I  It introduced us to the sea’s sight.

E  Eventually, teaching changed a bit,

T  The Bible became more life’s great “hit.”

H  Helping prepare workers for the field,

 

W  Wishing to increase the Master’s yield,

E  Ended in Friendsville – God’s timing fit.

D  Dining, other duties tired my wife,

D  Dual/triple “chores” consumed my own life.

I   In eighty-five pulled out for AK:

N  New roads, tent, campsites filled every day,

G  God’s given pleasures, only slight strife.

                 

  A  Andrew, Lincoln, Laura, and Heather

  N  Nested in Bryan’s nest together.

  N  Nice to each other, nice to Mom, Dad,

 I  In times when little was all we had.

 V  Vacations? – with long or short tether.

 E  Eventually each sought/found a mate.

 R  Rightly, their finds would be hard to rate,

 S  Seventeen “grands” bless Martha and me,

 A  A few near, but most “over the sea.”

 R  Rich we are – this side heaven’s grand gate.

 Y  Yield (all!) so you’ll live beyond the blue.

   

 B  Babe, you’re good for me, hope me you.

 A  Always ‘member, I’ve loved you always.

 B  Blessings on our own fiftieth days.

 E  “Edgar and Martha,” happy “young” two.                  

  – eab,6/23/11

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LINCOLN

Two hundred years ago this week, *

God brought forth on this continent,

A Kentucky boy poor but not weak,

This capable but country lad,

Had a loving mom, a working dad.

                – eab, 2/9/09

* Note this was penned a year ago.

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O day of rest and gladness, O day of joy and light,
O balm of care and sadness, most beautiful, most bright:
On Thee, the high and lowly, through ages joined in tune,
Sing holy, holy, holy, to the great God Triune.

On Thee, at the creation, the light first had its birth;
On Thee, for our salvation, Christ rose from depths of earth;
On Thee, our Lord, victorious, the Spirit sent from heaven,
And thus on Thee, most glorious, a triple light was given.

Thou art a port, protected from storms that round us rise;
A garden, intersected with streams of paradise;
Thou art a cooling fountain in life’s dry, dreary sand;
From thee, like Pisgah’s mountain, we view our promised land.

Thou art a holy ladder, where angels go and come;
Each Sunday finds us gladder, nearer to heaven, our home;
A day of sweet refection, thou art a day of love,
A day of resurrection from earth to things above.

Today on weary nations the heavenly manna falls;
To holy convocations the silver trumpet calls,
Where Gospel light is glowing with pure and radiant beams,
And living water flowing, with soul refreshing streams.

New graces ever gaining from this our day of rest,
We reach the rest remaining to spirits of the blessed.
To Holy Ghost be praises, to Father, and to Son;
The church her voice upraises to Thee, blessed Three in One.

Christopher Wordsworth was born this date 10/30/1807, Bocking, Essex, England.  He was a nephew to William Wordsworth the poet.  He was headmaster of Harrow Boys School and a member of the Church of England was archdeacon of Westminster and later bishop of Lincoln. Christopher was an outstanding Greek scholar and published many works, including a commentary of the Bible.  Today we remember him for one of his 127 hymns  “O Day of Rest and Gladness.”  He died 3/20/1885 at Lincoln, England.

His statement about hymns is worth knowing, “It is the first duty of a hymn to teach sound doctrine and thence to save souls.”

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“The Home Over There”

 

O think of the home over there,
By the side of the river of light,
Where the saints, all immortal and fair,
Are robed in their garments of light.
Over there, over there,
O think of the home over there,
Over there, over there,
O think of the home over there.

 

O think of the friends over there,
Who before us the journey have trod,
Of the songs that they breathe on the air,
In their home in the palace of God.
Over there, over there,
O think of the friends over there,
Over there, over there,
O think of the friends over there.

 

My Savior is now over there,
There my kindred and friends are at rest,
Then away from my sorrow and care,
Let me fly to the land of the blest.
Over there, over there,
My Savior is now over there,
Over there, over there,
My Savior is now over there.

 

I’ll soon be at home over there,
For the end of my journey I see;
Many dear to my heart, over there,
Are watching and waiting for me.
Over there, over there,
I’ll soon be at home over there,
Over there, over there,
I’ll soon be at home over there.

 

Dewitt Clinton Huntington died this date (2/8/1912) Lincoln, NE.  He was a Methodist minister in the east before being elected chancellor of the Nebraska Wesleyan University in 1898 a position he retained until 1908 when he became Professor of English Bible.  He wrote Sin and Holiness (1898).  Huntington was born 4/27/1830 in Townshend, VT.

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At times – who can but honestly admit the stage?

The family altar would be calm and dry.

No quiver filled the voice, no moisture trimmed the eye.

Yon Ancient History stayed just that – flat as the page.

Distant battles were read, but did not seem to rage.

Light, the soul of poetry, was not freshly lit.

Finally – devotions closed, they closed with a sigh.

 

Ah, but those other nights – precious, dear other nights,

In moments for which no dad or moma prepares;

A son [1] leading out in prayer, thanks God for his stairs.

Verses once seen but darkly, take on brighter lights,

God illuminates truth which once held no delights.

His Word will not return to Him void

He Himself, so solemnly declares.         – eab, 9/97


[1] Our second son, Lincoln, about the time he started school, did this – it brought a smile to my praying face and then (as I realized his sincerity) it brought tears to my eyes.  This family altar was on Goodbread Street, Nevada, OH.

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