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Posts Tagged ‘teacher’

God hath not promised skies always blue,
Flower strewn pathways all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.

Refrain

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

2. God hath not promised we shall not know
Toil and temptation, trouble and woe;
He hath not told us we shall not bear
Many a burden, many a care.

3. God hath not promised smooth roads and wide,
Swift, easy travel, needing no guide;
Never a mountain rocky and steep,
Never a river turbid and deep.

Annie Johnson Flint died this date, 9/8/1932, at Clifton Springs, New York.  She was the daughter of Mr. Eldon Johnson but it seems that she was adopted by a family named Flint while small.  Annie attended school in Trenton(Jersey) and became a teacher.  Later, due to severe arthritis (making her immobile), she traded teaching for writing poetry.  Her material appeared in magazines and books.  The above is a lesser known hymn than her “He Giveth More Grace.”  Miss Johnson was born 12/24/1866 at Vineland, New Jersey.

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There’s a song in the air! There’s a star in the sky!
There’s a mother’s deep prayer and a baby’s low cry!
And the star rains its fire while the beautiful sing,
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a King!

There’s a tumult of joy o’er the wonderful birth,
For the virgin’s sweet Boy is the Lord of the earth.
Ay! the star rains its fire while the beautiful sing,
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a King!

In the light of that star lie the ages impearled;
And that song from afar has swept over the world.
Every hearth is aflame, and the beautiful sing
In the homes of the nations that Jesus is King!

We rejoice in the light, and we echo the song
That comes down through the night from the heavenly throng.
Ay! we shout to the lovely evangel they bring,
And we greet in His cradle our Savior and King!

Josiah Gilbert Holland died this date 10/12/1881, in New York.  He was a medical doctor, a teacher, and an editor in that order.  His editing work was done for the Republican a paper then printed at Spring­field, Mass­a­chu­setts.  He helped found the Scribner Magazine and wrote some novels.  He is best remember in Christian circles for this “There’s a Song in the Air” (published in 1872).  He was born 7/24/1819, at Bel­cher­town, Mass­a­chu­setts.

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The blood that Jesus once shed for me,
As my Redeemer, upon the tree;
The blood that setteth the pris’ner free,
Will never lose its pow’r.

Refrain

It will never lose its pow’r,
It will never lose its pow’r;
The blood that cleanses from all sin
Will never lose its pow’r.

 It gives us access to God on high,
From “far off places” it brings us nigh;
To precious blessings that never die,
It will never lose its pow’r.

It is a shelter for rich and poor,
It is to Heaven the open door;
The sinner’s merit forevermore,
It will never lose its pow’r.

 And when with all the blood washed throng
We sing in glory redemption’s song;
We’ll pass the glorious truth along,
It has never lost its pow’r.

 Civilla Durfee Martin was born this date, 8/21/1869, at Jor­dan, Nova Scotia, Canada.  She was teacher, pastor’s wife and poet.  She penned “Accepted in the Beloved” “Breath of the Spirit” God Will Take Care of You” “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” “Old-Fashioned Way” “Saved and Kept” “Sitting at the Feet of Jesus” and “Wonderful Love.”  She passed away 3/9/1948 at Atlanta, Georgia

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Living for Jesus, a life that is true,
Striving to please Him in all that I do;
Yielding allegiance, glad hearted and free,
This is the pathway of blessing for me.

 Refrain

O Jesus, Lord and Savior, I give myself to Thee,
For Thou, in Thy atonement, didst give Thyself for me.
I own no other Master, my heart shall be Thy throne.
My life I give, henceforth to live, O Christ, for Thee alone.

2.

Living for Jesus Who died in my place,
Bearing on Calvary my sin and disgrace;
Such love constrains me to answer His call,
Follow His leading and give Him my all.

3.

Living for Jesus, wherever I am,
Doing each duty in His holy Name;
Willing to suffer affliction and loss,
Deeming each trial a part of my cross.

4.

Living for Jesus through earth’s little while,
My dearest treasure, the light of His smile;
Seeking the lost ones He died to redeem,
Bringing the weary to find rest in Him.

Thomas Obadiah (T. O.) Chisholm was born this date, 7/29/1866, at Franklin, Kentucky.  He was a Methodist pastor, a teacher, an editor, and a poet.  Technically I could have met him (didn’t) but I did know Paul W Finch who knew Bro. Chisholm (so feel a little connected).  Of his 1,200 (+) poems three are: “Oh, To Be Like Thee” “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” and “Living for Jesus.”  He died 2/29/1960 at Ocean Grove, New Jer­sey.

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You’re in charge Lord, of all we do and all we say,

From the day of our birth to our dying day.

All the decades, all the desires, all the delights,

Every land mile, each boat mile, all the flights.

For the man, You’re in charge of a choice wife;

For the lady, You decide who’s man of her life.

For the couple, You handle conception;

One child, no child, several; without exception.

You direct a man to be merchant, or teacher

Doctor, carpenter, animal man, or firm preacher.

You give the lady talents to keep the home:   

Cleaning, ironing, and either cooking or laundry foam.

You decide where we live, country or town,

A house of gloom or glee, smiles or a frown,

Upscale, modern, traditional ranch, track,

Older unpainted, tidy, but little more than a shack.

You Lord, guide us to the right fellow believers;

Protecting us from sheep-clothed-wolves – deceivers.

Send us where the Word is “front and center,”   

Where light is allowed to dawn and enter.

You decide if we live to grow old, then older,

Or face cancer or other problems, weak or bolder.

How wonderful to have a daily, careful Guide,

Through decades untiring, by our soul’s side,

Through cross-roads, intersections, You show the way,

Till we join Enoch, in the Eternal bliss of Your day!

You, Lord are finally in charge

Of the day we the body disembark.

And as the soul has directed in care,

Up, up, up with You, see that it journeys there.

          –eab, 5/7/08

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