tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27478995760479941442024-02-19T17:28:39.662-08:00To My Children<em> “Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days” (Ecclesiastes 11:1). </em>Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.comBlogger93125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-57071552369377851442020-12-29T19:52:00.001-08:002020-12-29T19:52:36.016-08:00A Mystery<p> <span style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">“</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px; font-weight: 700;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">We speak God’s wisdom in a mystery, even the wisdom that hath been hidden, which God foreordained before the world unto our glory</i></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">” (1Co 2:7).</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">Please share my <i style="box-sizing: border-box;">nascent</i> understanding of what Paul refers to as “<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">mystery</i></span>” <i style="box-sizing: border-box;">mystērion</i>; a derivative of <i style="box-sizing: border-box;">muo</i> (to shut the mouth). English translations frequently fail to convey Paul’s precise intent in using the transliteration “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">mystērion</i>,” which is “<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">that which in other ages was not made known unto the sons of men, as it is now revealed</i></span>“. Therefore, “<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">the mystery</i></span>” Paul in the “<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">fullness of times</i></span>” revealed is no longer a mystery, nor should it be considered mysterious.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">Paul’s epistles refer to a number of explicit mysteries, yet there is a consonance, suggesting that even in their distinctiveness they are “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">one,</i>” even as a brilliant-cut diamond has many facets, so do the mysteries of Paul’s epistles, i.e., all being facets of His comprehensive “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">will</i>” spanning this “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">dispensation of the grace of God</i>.”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">The story of the “<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">mysteries</i></span>” in Paul’s epistles begin where we are told that “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">by revelation He made known</span>” unto Paul “<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">the mystery</span></i>” “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">which in other ages was not made known unto the sons of men, as it is now revealed unto his holy</span> [New Testament] <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">apostles and prophets by the Spirit</span>” </i>(cf. Eph 3:3-5).</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">“The mystery of His will”:</span></i></span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">The first facet, to which all others appear subordinate, is the “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">the mystery of his will</span></i>,” i.e., <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">the “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">will of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ</i>.”</span> “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">That <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">in the dispensation of the fulness of times he might gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven, and which are on earth</span></i>” in our Lord Jesus Christ (cf. Eph 1:9-10, emphasis added).</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">Or as John Nelson Darby so eloquently observed: “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">It is a marvellous purpose of God which, uniting redeemed ones to Christ in heaven as a body to its head, gave them a place in heaven. For, although we are journeying on the earth, and although we are the habitation of God by the Spirit on the earth, yet in the mind of God our place is in heaven</i>.”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">“<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">T</span><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">he mystery of Christ”:</span></i></span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">The gathering “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">together in one all things in Christ</i>” infers “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">the mystery of Christ</span>… <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">That the Gentiles should be fellow heirs, and of the same body, and partakers of his promise in Christ by the gospel</span> whereof… [Paul] “was made a minister, according to the gift of the grace of God</i>” (cf. Eph 3:4-7).</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">Before this mystery, Jews were a “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">chosen</i>” people “<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">above all people… upon the face of the earth</i></span>.” Today the Jew and Gentile are “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">one</i>” in the Body of Christ. However, after the “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">final</i>” mystery, all things will be as before. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">The mystery of the gospel</span>: </span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">“<i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Now to him that is able to establish you according to my gospel</span> and the preaching [(proclamation)] of Jesus Christ, <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">according to the revelation of the mystery which hath been kept in silence through times eternal, but now is manifested</span>, and by the [New Testament] Scriptures of the prophets, according to the commandment of the eternal God, is made known unto all the nations unto obedience of faith</i>” (Rom 16:25-26, emphasis added).</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">The mystery of the blindness of Israel</span>:</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">“<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">For I would not, brethren, that ye should be ignorant of this mystery, lest ye should be wise in your own conceits; that blindness in part is happened to Israel, until the fulness of the Gentiles be come in. <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">And so all Israel shall be saved</span>: <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">as it is written, There shall come out of Sion the Deliverer, and shall turn away ungodliness from Jacob</span></i>” (Rom 11:25-26, emphasis added).</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">“<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">And it shall come to pass in that day, that I will seek to destroy all the nations that come against Jerusalem. And I will pour upon the house of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and of supplications: <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him, as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him, as one that is in bitterness for his firstborn</span></i>” (Zec 12:9-10, emphasis added).</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">The “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">great</i>” mystery, </span>personal, intimate, and ever lovely, concerning the Lord and the Body of Christ.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">“<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">for this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh. This is a great mystery:</span> but I speak concerning Christ and the church</i>” (Eph 5:25-32, emphasis added). </span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">The mystery of “Christ in you<i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">, the hope of glory</span></i>“</span>:</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">Scripture frequently dwells on the phrase “in Christ,” but only rarely mentions the indwelling of Christ!</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">“<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">Even <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">the mystery which hath been hid from ages and from generations, but now is made manifest</span> to his saints: To whom God would make known what is the riches of the glory of <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">this mystery among the Gentiles; which is Christ in you, the hope of glory</span></i>” (Col 1:26-27, </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">emphasis added</span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">).</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">The “mystery of iniquity”:</span></span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span>“<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">For the mystery of iniquity doth already work: only <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">he who now letteth will let, until he be taken out of the way</span></i>“(2Th 2:7, emphasis added).</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">Today Satin’s surrogate “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">Messiah</i>” is drawing ever closer to the threshold of “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">that Day</i>” when the restraint of the Holy Spirit will be removed and the mystery of lawlessness will be revealed, but not before the “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">final</i>” mystery!</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">“<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">We shall not all sleep</i>” is both the <span style="box-sizing: border-box;">final facet of the mystery of His will, and t</span></span><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">he “final” mystery:</span></i></span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">“<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">Behold, I shew you a mystery;<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;"> We shall not all sleep</span>, <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">but we shall all be changed, In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye,</span> at the last trump: f<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">or the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed</span></i>” (1Co 15:51-52, emphasis added).</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;">At the “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">last trump</i>” the Holy Spirit “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;">will be taken out of the way</i>,” the dispensation of grace and the “Body of Christ” on earth shall be no more, and “<i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord</span></i>” (cf. 1Th 4:17).</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">©2020 Christopher. All rights reserved.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #616161; font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 1.25rem 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "times new roman", times, serif; font-size: 24px;"><br /></span></p>Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-7855603289556475082015-05-19T23:14:00.001-07:002015-05-19T23:45:47.071-07:00A Song in the Night<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A memoriam to Horatio Spafford decorated with lilies of the fields from the purlieu of Jerusalem where he founded the American Colony.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwRvD4aarAnQiuXGwv4yDG5ltjZ1VWyaEbS9tt6UdoSR7Vwts0kWe_nB1KOQYP0xWQt7FBahkZbfTjvQ6-hHxKpkhyphenhyphen8QVqj6bIA-WkukP9u65Xv8hC2tJ7XwrrjsrlRZGOXPggmcmtUQ/s1600/ac0020s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwRvD4aarAnQiuXGwv4yDG5ltjZ1VWyaEbS9tt6UdoSR7Vwts0kWe_nB1KOQYP0xWQt7FBahkZbfTjvQ6-hHxKpkhyphenhyphen8QVqj6bIA-WkukP9u65Xv8hC2tJ7XwrrjsrlRZGOXPggmcmtUQ/s320/ac0020s.jpg" width="228" /></a></span></div>
<i>It Is Well With My Soul</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>When peace like a river, attendeth my way,</i><br />
<i>When sorrows like sea billows roll;</i><br />
<i>Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to know,</i><br />
<i>It is well, it is well, with my soul.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Refrain:</i><br />
<i>It is well, (it is well),</i><br />
<i>With my soul, (with my soul)</i><br />
<i>It is well, it is well, with my soul.</i><br />
<i>Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Let this blest assurance control,</i><br />
<i>That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,</i><br />
<i>And hath shed His own blood for my soul.</i><br />
<i>My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>My sin, not in part but the whole,</i><br />
<i>Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,</i><br />
<i>Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!</i><br />
<i>For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>If Jordan above me shall roll,</i><br />
<i>No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life,</i><br />
<i>Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.</i><br />
<i>But Lord, 'tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The sky, not the grave, is our goal;</i><br />
<i>Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!</i><br />
<i>Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul.</i><br />
<i>And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;</i><br />
<i>The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,</i><br />
<i>A song in the night, oh my soul!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Horatio Spafford, 1873</i>Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-12148057001199924542015-05-02T14:42:00.001-07:002015-05-02T14:42:53.255-07:00Morning Has BrokenChristianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-64206764288928336792015-04-25T09:58:00.003-07:002015-04-25T21:37:06.051-07:00To my Children’s Mother<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As the rain fell long into the night,</span></i></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Could not but think of another spring night,</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A first date and music and singing.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Of lacing up your petite feet into your skates.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And gliding across the floor holding your hand, it was paradise.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And later walking and talking, hand in hand together.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Your lips a scarlet thread and your words</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">More comely than ever I heard.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And at your door I stood mesmerized</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Looking into your sea blue eyes, doves' eyes.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And then our first kiss.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You ravished my heart that night!</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But why over the years have I so often forgotten?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">O my dove, my love, my bride, and my life.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Happy Birthday my fair one.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“For behold, the winter is past, The rain is over, it is gone:</span></i></i></div>
<i>
</i>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The flowers appear on the earth; The time of singing is come,</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land” (Song 2:11-12).
</span></i></div>
Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-57794787812889907342015-01-29T00:24:00.002-08:002015-03-20T11:43:30.165-07:00"Bon Voyage Baby Nova"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQVXz3U4gWlvCQYSZ6Vc4ZjEJk6gND7pbjh0teb3lC-96jdUS93FcKBpDSnZt7fVZi1qlNoKjRwQNc4Urfmsobk4m-dyqVah0LhvGgdZocQgeKUesQbUMx1XfSaprhoWfHjLI2t9s_bQ/s1600/Nova's%2Bquilt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQVXz3U4gWlvCQYSZ6Vc4ZjEJk6gND7pbjh0teb3lC-96jdUS93FcKBpDSnZt7fVZi1qlNoKjRwQNc4Urfmsobk4m-dyqVah0LhvGgdZocQgeKUesQbUMx1XfSaprhoWfHjLI2t9s_bQ/s1600/Nova's%2Bquilt.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Quite the Super Nova
</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Up, up and away in a beautiful balloon, </i><br />
<i>A</i><i>nd as la stately Parisian tower pierces the clouds above, </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>A little bird poses on a fountain mirroring the azure sky.
</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>As la vintage suitcase rests on a mottled pastel background, </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>With chemise, bonnet, et accessoires neatly spread under a muted parasol, </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>A serendipitous Vespa circumnavigates la Tour Eiffel.
</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>But petit Nova her passeport has forgotten!
</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
</div>
Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-62190593540122029722015-01-03T00:00:00.001-08:002015-06-20T22:21:11.271-07:00A Day of Honor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXh1HrwI4JAC7n9Mx-kJweZPvybQOR4WIH8N32yaLRFsWQaqArAw5GpmPbFx54TDbyGlO0OtmGp1BZJw9aRc1aaC5QZ-yZpxvN_OA_ts0Cj4Qukmze437_xzl-IYjrIkO4lnuwfFl9ng/s1600/Ben+Smith+Sept+18+1942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXh1HrwI4JAC7n9Mx-kJweZPvybQOR4WIH8N32yaLRFsWQaqArAw5GpmPbFx54TDbyGlO0OtmGp1BZJw9aRc1aaC5QZ-yZpxvN_OA_ts0Cj4Qukmze437_xzl-IYjrIkO4lnuwfFl9ng/s1600/Ben+Smith+Sept+18+1942.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
An evening some years ago I was reading letters to my father, old letters my mother had written. His eyes brightened as he recognized her voice in each one. Then as I reached for another from among the tightly packed envelopes, I found this coarse piece of tablet paper wedged between. As I read, his eyes riveted on the long lost remembrance, and as mine questioned, he began the story:<br />
<br />
<br />
That evening, Company M, 128th Infantry, 32<sup>D</sup> was ordered to gather together their few archaic implements of war, strip, and toss their fatigues into vats of green dye. And as they were jettisoning every possession, my father found a scrap of paper and quickly scribbled one last letter, dripping dye as the shirt on his back continued to dry. Then as planes were revving in the predawn mist and he was waiting in line, a guy in his company broke the silence: “<i>'Sweet Tooth,’ tell us somethin’ funny</i>.” My father sternly elucidated “<i>This is not funny</i>!” as they went into the night....<br />
<br />
<i>The day of death is of greater honor than the day of one's birth</i> (cf. Ecclesiastes 7:1), <i>today was the day of my father’s death, 70 years after that fateful night.
</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 7.5pt;">U.S.
Army Signal Corps photo</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih5zMeW935PYLv5MUWApHvXHMyxGbv4YjNBKWfntGEvtf1WKdVL_XH3DPz2Nvi-FqBoOWzfJlnD25mVnvEn5Y9Ig5fxApj2kNOmVktCraOLiWK4MFTZ6z8md2IjV-nA3wDKNKVEJW1ZA/s1600/Amberly+Field+Sept+18+1942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih5zMeW935PYLv5MUWApHvXHMyxGbv4YjNBKWfntGEvtf1WKdVL_XH3DPz2Nvi-FqBoOWzfJlnD25mVnvEn5Y9Ig5fxApj2kNOmVktCraOLiWK4MFTZ6z8md2IjV-nA3wDKNKVEJW1ZA/s1600/Amberly+Field+Sept+18+1942.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
An Australian sentry guards an American Boeing B-17 in the early morning as soldiers of the 128TH Infantry, 32D Division, wait in the distance to board planes for Port Moresby at Amberly Field, Ipswich, Australia, on 18 September, 1942.</blockquote>
<br />
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">Epilog:</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">Company E, 126th and Company M, 128th were the very first U.S. units to be to be airborne into combat.<sup>1</sup>As part of the 32<sup>D</sup> ‘Red Arrow’ Infantry Division, they initiated the Division’s unenviable record of more days in combat than any other U.S. division during World War II.<sup>1</sup> During the Papuan Campaign they also had the unenviable distinction of a casualty count that exceeded the division's entire battle strength.<sup>1</sup> But in doing so they wrote first chapter in the book of jungle warfare for all who would follow:</span></b><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><i>“The 32<sup>D</sup> Division, during this difficult time at Buna, was writing the book for combat against the Japanese in the jungles of the Pacific with their sweat and blood. All of the Pacific battles yet to come were able to benefit from the lessons learned by the 32D Division at Buna, and also the Marines and Army Infantry concurrently fighting at Guadalcanal.”</i><sup>1</sup></span></b></blockquote>
<span style="color: #741b47;"><sup>1</sup>Highlights of the 32<sup>D</sup> ‘Red Arrow’ Infantry Division during World War II</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;"><sup>2</sup>The32<sup>D</sup> Infantry Division in World War II The ‘Red Arrow’ Papuan Campaign - The Battle of Buna</span>Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-19396158909573288252014-12-31T21:39:00.001-08:002014-12-31T21:46:24.675-08:00Wings of the Morning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzA21XQ7hhDqxYYEHY15VBQXm2L63qkyburFUx3-eevtn5uxX5eI_Lv9mSZkygwUiZi70WRV5tlzydAsXiuNjuDCFHccmZm49B30kscnKk4BZ4zBSQQ1lOqMwEiamK_WspvTI7Lex5Q/s1600/IMG_0605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzA21XQ7hhDqxYYEHY15VBQXm2L63qkyburFUx3-eevtn5uxX5eI_Lv9mSZkygwUiZi70WRV5tlzydAsXiuNjuDCFHccmZm49B30kscnKk4BZ4zBSQQ1lOqMwEiamK_WspvTI7Lex5Q/s1600/IMG_0605.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Will never forget one Friday night in a Phoenix mall in the early 70s. All the concourses were dark, except for subtly illumined spans of bright colored Dacron, and shadows silently wondering among mammoth pinions interspersed, wingtip to wingtip in this mesmerizing sanctuary of the wind.<br />
<br />
That night began my affinity with wings, an affinity that came to an end three months ago as chronicled in this last photo.<br />
<br />
But one day I will, in the words of the Psalmist of Israel, “<i>take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea</i>” (Psalms 139:9).Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-66690350023210515532014-12-19T19:03:00.001-08:002014-12-19T19:04:49.431-08:00Fearfully and Wonderfully Made<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJVRPaidxTkPoeUEwzl-IdquedinJqCXPSBHOo2hnOXdAp9-x9JiethyUqYpvdqnR78BoBcQEPZaIeAKtZ4hQrnwNKh9EoxgThAraq4G40WXqcBFtGzfMbxVZ8A3cALsl92tGULpNFA/s1600/IMG_0986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJVRPaidxTkPoeUEwzl-IdquedinJqCXPSBHOo2hnOXdAp9-x9JiethyUqYpvdqnR78BoBcQEPZaIeAKtZ4hQrnwNKh9EoxgThAraq4G40WXqcBFtGzfMbxVZ8A3cALsl92tGULpNFA/s1600/IMG_0986.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
“<i>For thou didst form my inward parts: Thou didst cover me in my mother's womb. I will give thanks unto thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: Wonderful are thy works; And that my soul knoweth…. My frame was not hidden from thee, When I was made in secret, And curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see mine unformed substance; And in thy book they were all written, Even the days that were ordained for me, When as yet there was none of them. How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! How great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand: When I awake, I am still with thee</i>” (Psalm 139:13-18).Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-31229257396550777622014-12-16T23:59:00.001-08:002014-12-17T07:01:27.540-08:00Marie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEbOvJTnpTOkk3muFqICQ_YB5s2IhyphenhyphenFkZPFaQRkY-Usflli4MKY7tAdbGGYdIdO9UGS7vy2wr7SvZUoIj-LD8CimQ7i4xqsYJDCpGeGMcxFioyRoekBf8tOp1VTrCpqWL4qA05WI43Q/s1600/Marie+1928.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEbOvJTnpTOkk3muFqICQ_YB5s2IhyphenhyphenFkZPFaQRkY-Usflli4MKY7tAdbGGYdIdO9UGS7vy2wr7SvZUoIj-LD8CimQ7i4xqsYJDCpGeGMcxFioyRoekBf8tOp1VTrCpqWL4qA05WI43Q/s400/Marie+1928.jpg" /></a></div>
Marie was born just before the winter of 1921, one of eight children in a little house with a table, four chairs, a stove, a single bed and cots that lined the walls. Never enough to eat and always work to do. She carried wood, brought in water, and sometimes even dug with her fingers for the last bits of coal embedded in the cold hard ground. That was her life, but her smile never betrayed it.<br />
<br />
Her world was a green meadow all full of flowers bejeweled with the morning dew, the abode of butterflies as evening hastens. Close by a little stream with beautiful blue-green mallard eggs in occasional clutches along the grassy banks. Sometimes she would sneak away with some "delicious" book and under a favorite tree spend a few minutes that she wished could stretch into uninterrupted hours. She loved rainy spring nights, as she lay close by her sister under the tin roofed porch they shared. <br />
<br />
Marie shared many memories: of herself as a small child on a church pew almost ready to topple over; of a mother who told her about Jesus; of Christmas with only a stocking, apple, and an orange; of the classmate who, because of her ragged appearance, would not take her hand; of dances and an older sister, uncomfortable with walking dark streets alone, compelling her to go, and as her sister danced, little Marie, nowhere to be found, was fast asleep and warm among the coats; of her father awakening her in the coolness of predawn summer mornings, and the two of them with buckets in hand walking down an old railroad track together in search of wild berries; of the cold she and her sister endured on that little porch with only screens and blankets between them and winter; of the secret weapon, the Lord provided late one night as she walked home alone from the corner drug where she worked, a paper bag that left that someone, who lightly but intentionally brushed her dress in passing, stunned and covered in the chocolate malt intended for her mother. <br />
<br />
And she described the bittersweet memory of her sister Dolly, a little girl so full of joy the neighbors called her "Sunshine." She was always ready to help. When mother ask, she was always willing to go. One day she came home from school all wet and cold and talking strange. "I reached up and touched the fingers of God." After she went to bed that night, things were never quite the same. Each day she grew more ill. Her desperate mother searched and bought the only doll that little house ever would know. And just before she went to sleep that one last time, my mother remembered her singing "Jingle Bells… Jingle Bells." A short time later all her things were burned, except for the little doll. Her mother put it in a drawer that was never "ever" to be opened! And my mother remembered her mother's unrestrained cry as that little body was laid to rest in a grave without a stone. <br />
<br />
Marie grew up, married, and gave us life. I remember her so often gathering us together, opening the Bible, and smiling as she read. She loved us, but she knew her love was not enough. We would have to make His love our own. As the years progressed, time was not kind; her body was contorted with pain, but neither smile nor prayers were abated. She no longer had to remind us that "strength is made perfect in weakness." I moved away, but innumerable letters followed through the years. Each punctuated with a purloined thought or verse, and very spring she reminded me: <br />
<br />
"The winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land" (Song 2:12). <br />
<br />
Her joy was to commit a little of Scripture to memory each day, and recite or read to shut-ins, those in nursing homes, her children, grandchildren, husband and whoever else she had opportunity. She continually longed for everyone to share her joy. <br />
<br />
Her concern for others never faltered, even with labored breath just minutes before her death, she looked at my brother, smiled, and said "it’s time for you to go." <br />
<br />
It has only been a year or so since my mother reminisced about that little grave without a stone. That’s when I thought of the small piece of marble, beside the door, white and round and exquisitely engraved with the likeness of a dove, a remembrance lost to time, some other sadness, a child, a distant grave. I looked at it, I looked at her, she smiled and within the hour she was leading us to the place that only she would know. As I knelt and dug and embedded that likeness of a dove on that little unmarked grave, I can still remember her bittersweet smile. Someday I will see them hand in hand running through green meadows all full of flowers, bejeweled with morning dew, the abode of butterflies as evening hastens. <br />
<br />
Marie was always listening, and she is listening still for that familiar voice, and the long clear clarion call of the trumpet when all who love Him will stand at attention as the dead come forth to meet Him in the air. <br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"<i>For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another with these words</i>" (1Thessalonians 4: 14-18). </blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"<i>Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed</i>" (1Corinthians 15:51-52). </blockquote>
Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-68366188183067889452014-10-10T10:01:00.004-07:002014-10-10T10:04:36.799-07:00A Grave without a Stone<br />
The girl who would have been my aunt, came home from school one day all wet and cold and talking strange: “I reached and touched the fingers of God” she said. After going to sleep that night, things were not the same. As she grew more ill, her desperate mother searched and bought the only doll the little house would ever know.<br />
<br />
And just before she went to sleep one last time, my mother remembered Dolly singing “Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells….” A short time later the house was quarantined and all her things were burned… except the little doll. Her mother put it in a drawer “never never” to be opened. And my mother could never forget her mother crying as the little body was laid to rest in a grave without a stone.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“<i>For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain…. Nevertheless to abide in the flesh is more needful for you</i>” (Philippians 1:24).</blockquote>
Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-70461315857116028262014-02-13T20:50:00.002-08:002014-02-13T20:50:27.397-08:00testtestChristianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-18677955717927532312013-12-17T23:38:00.001-08:002013-12-17T23:43:57.183-08:00Marie<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Marie was born just before winter, one of eight children in a little house with a table, four chairs, a stove, a single bed and cots that lined the walls. Never enough to eat and always work to do. She carried wood, brought in water, and sometimes even dug with her fingers for the last bits of coal embedded in the cold hard ground. That was her life, but her smile rarely betrayed it so.</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Her world was a green meadow all full of flowers bejeweled with the morning dew, the abode of butterflies as evening hastens. Close by was her little stream with beautiful blue-green mallard eggs in occasional clutches along the grassy banks. Sometimes she would sneak away with some "delicious" book and under a favorite tree spend a few minutes that she wished could stretch into uninterrupted hours. She loved rainy spring nights, as she lay close by her sister under the tin roofed porch they shared.</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Marie shared with me many thoughts and memories:</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"> Of herself as a small child on a church pew, almost ready to topple over, and, as years progressed, of a mother who compelled her to learn things "eternal"; Of Christmases with only a stocking, an apple, and an orange; Of the classmate who, because of her ragged appearance, would scarcely even take her hand; Of dances and how her oldest sister, uncomfortable with walking dark streets alone, would make her go. As her sister, danced, little Marie, nowhere to be found, was fast asleep and warm among the coats; Of her father awakening her in the coolness of pre-dawn summer mornings, and the two of them with buckets in hand walking down an old railroad track together in search of wild berries; Of the cold she and her sister endured on that little porch with only screens and blankets between them and winter; Of the secret weapon, the Lord provided late one night as she walked home alone from the corner drug where she worked. A paper bag that left </span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;">one, who lightly but intentionally brushed her
dress in passing,</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"> stunned and covered in the chocolate malt intended for her mother;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">And she told me the bittersweet memory of her sister Dolly, a little girl so full of joy the neighbors called her "Sunshine." She was always ready to help. When mother ask, she was always willing to go.</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"> One day this little girl came home from school all wet and cold and talking strange. "<i>I reached up today and touched the fingers of God</i>" she said. After she went to bed that night, things were never quite the same. Each day she grew more ill. Her desperate mother searched and bought the only doll that little house ever would know. And just before she went to sleep that one last time, my mother remembered her singing "Jingle Bells… Jingle Bells." A short time later all her things were burned, except that little doll. Her mother put it in a drawer that was never "ever" to be opened! And my mother remembered her mother's unrestrained cry as that little body was laid to rest in a grave without a stone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Marie grew up, married, and gave us life. I remember her so often gathering us together, opening the Bible, and smiling as she read. She loved us, but she knew her love was not enough. We would have to make His love our own.</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"> As the years progressed, time was not kind. Her body was contorted with pain, but her smile never changed, nor her intercessory prayer. She didn't have to remind us that His "strength is made perfect in weakness." I moved away, but innumerable letters followed through the years. Each punctuated with a "purloined" thought or verse, and very spring she reminded:</span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"<i>The winter is past, the </i></span><i><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">rain is over </span></i><i><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">and</span></i><i><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"> gone; The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land</span></i><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">" (</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Song 2:12).</span></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Her joy was to commit a little of Scripture to memory each day, and recite or read to shut-ins, those in nursing homes, her children, grandchildren, husband and whoever else she had opportunity. She continually longed for everyone to share her joy.</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Her concern for others never faltered, even with labored breath just minutes before her death, she looked at my brother, smiled, and said "it’s time for you to go."</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Its only been a year or so since my mother reminisced about that little grave without a stone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">That’s when I noticed the small piece of marble, beside the door, white and round and </span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">exquisitely</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"> engraved with the likeness of a dove, a remembrance lost to time, some other sadness, a child, a distant grave. I looked at it, I looked at her, she smiled and within the hour she was leading us to the place that only she would know. As I knelt and dug and embed that likeness of a dove in that little unmarked grave, I can still remember her bittersweet smile.</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"> Someday I will see them hand in hand running through green meadows all full of flowers, bejeweled with morning dew, the abode of butterflies as evening hastens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Marie was always listening, and she is listening now for His voice, and the long clear clarion call of the trumpet when all who love Him will stand at attention as the dead come forth from the grave to meet Him in the air…and we will follow.</span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"<i>For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another with these words</i>" </span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">(</span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">1Thessalonians 4: 14-18).</span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"<i>Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed</i>" (1Corinthians 15:51-52).</span></blockquote>
Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-89349676076313871302013-11-18T11:35:00.003-08:002013-11-18T12:28:03.129-08:00The LORD is My ShepherdA little over two years ago, I awoke in the night to discover half my brain had dissolved without the slightest sensation. Couldn't move left leg or arm or eye. Considering that it involved a major cerebral passage, my recovery was miraculous even though my speech and finger dexterity are still improving. Just last week in response to a query, I maintained, "<i>The LORD is my shepherd</i>, even if the <i>storm</i> returns." Let me share my empathy for a testimony to which mine can hardly compare.<br />
<br />
William Ralph Featherston was about <span style="color: #4a442a; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">twelve</span> when the Civil War began. Little is known of him, except that sometime during those tumultuous years he wrote a poem. <i>My Jesus I Love Thee</i>, a poem that tells all we really know about this young man, and all we really need to know, except that in his <span style="color: #4a442a; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">twenty-seventh</span> year, the "<i>death dew</i>" lay cold on his brow, and he was not,<i> for God took him</i>.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;<br />For Thee all the follies of sin I resign.<br />My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;<br />If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.<br /> <br />I love Thee because Thou has first loved me,<br />And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree.<br />I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;<br />If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.<br /> <br />I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,<br />And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;<br />And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,<br />If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.<br /> <br />In mansions of glory and endless delight,<br />I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;<br />I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow;<br />If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now. </i></blockquote>
Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-1945424377761618502013-11-17T21:54:00.000-08:002015-01-05T11:58:45.556-08:00If Ever I Loved TheeWilliam Ralph Featherston was about <span style="color: #4a442a; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: background2; mso-themeshade: 64;">twelve </span>when the Civil War began. Little is known of him, except that sometime during those tumultuous years he wrote a poem. "<i>My Jesus I Love Thee</i>,” a poem that tells all we know about this young man, and all we need to know, except that in his twenty seventh year, the "<i>death dew</i>" lay cold on his brow, and he was not, <i>for God took him</i>.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8A1KrBLzCdgwJzfdgK9mioUY9lD1OCfOA89nunZ5SNmWN9Idxb5S2NUu8mmu8wNocbfrVXOzCq67K1Y5p3w6-RnR0p12sKCVZfGGu-mmIgj9ntFyfQKYZfSjnwFk3_1XhhG12RsWmbA/s1600/Angevine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8A1KrBLzCdgwJzfdgK9mioUY9lD1OCfOA89nunZ5SNmWN9Idxb5S2NUu8mmu8wNocbfrVXOzCq67K1Y5p3w6-RnR0p12sKCVZfGGu-mmIgj9ntFyfQKYZfSjnwFk3_1XhhG12RsWmbA/s1600/Angevine.jpg" height="320" width="121" /></a><i>My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;<br />For Thee all the follies of sin I resign.<br />My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;<br />If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.<br /> <br />I love Thee because Thou has first loved me,<br />And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree.<br />I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;<br />If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.<br /> <br />I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,<br />And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;<br />And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,<br />If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.<br /> <br />In mansions of glory and endless delight,<br />I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;<br />I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow;<br />If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now. </i></blockquote>
Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-23309121253853160262013-11-11T13:37:00.001-08:002013-12-28T23:57:15.302-08:00The Flying Dutchman<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Fq-LRyjA2QX9jim0P64d8AuIksQuYKGCDqf6Yw-eh3O3cQe5h6byNtNq5GbQmYioVgJVuI3VqUP6TGr4BCMcsRipk6Z6V0msV_1P9GcFn39t0siPmTG40VsveVBTm_UILHSEmjBs1A/s1600/Flying+Dutchman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Fq-LRyjA2QX9jim0P64d8AuIksQuYKGCDqf6Yw-eh3O3cQe5h6byNtNq5GbQmYioVgJVuI3VqUP6TGr4BCMcsRipk6Z6V0msV_1P9GcFn39t0siPmTG40VsveVBTm_UILHSEmjBs1A/s320/Flying+Dutchman.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #741b47;">On Nov. 10, 1942, a C-47 called The Flying Dutchman was ferrying
replacements and supplies from Port Moresby to an airstrip near Pongani, New
Guinea. This may have been the day my father (Pfc. Benjamin Smith, Co. M,
128th) and his best friend were left alone to guard the</span><span style="color: #741b47;"> </span><span style="color: #741b47;">runway when a sniper made a choice that gave me life.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
In any event, The Flying Dutchman never made it to Pongani. Encountering a strong downdraft, it crashed into Mt. Obree while attempting to cross the treacherous Owen Stanley Range. <br />
<br />
Seven were killed, and two groups of four shortly went for help, leaving the remaining eight seriously injured and burned <span style="color: #17365d;">survivors </span>alone on what had come to be known as "<i>Ghost Mountain</i>" where even the moss-covered trees illuminated the night with a phosphorescent glow.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>It was the eeriest place I ever saw. The trees were covered with moss a half a foot thick. We would walk along a hogback, straddling the trail, with a sheer drop of thousands of feet two feet on either side of us. We kept hearing water running somewhere, but we couldn’t find any. We could thrust a stick six feet down in the spongy stuff we were walking on without hitting anything real solid. It was ungodly cold. There wasn’t a sign of life. Not a bird. Not a fly. Not a sound. It was the strangest feeling I ever had. If we stopped, we froze. If we moved, we sweated</i> (Lt. Paul R. Lutjens, Co. E, 126TH).</blockquote>
In 1967, the Pacific wreck of the The Flying Dutchman was found, and on one of its doors, the following inscribed, including the last recorded prayer, <i>December Thurs-24</i>:<br />
<br />
Crashed 1:30 Tues - 10 of Nov. - 1942<br />
Tues-10 17 men alive<br />
Wed-11 16 men alive<br />
Thurs-12 4 men started for help<br />
Fri-13<br />
Sat-14 Tried to put up balloon<br />
Sun-15 Cracker and cheese<br />
Mon-16 4 men started for help-due South leaves eight men left<br />
Tues-17 Small piece cheese<br />
Wed-18 Chocolate bar<br />
Thurs-19 Found one chocolate bar<br />
Fri-20 1/3 can tomato juice<br />
Sat-21 1/3 can tomato juice<br />
Sun-22 Drank last 1/3 can of tomato juice<br />
Mon-23 Last cigarette-even butts<br />
Tues-24 First day-no rain<br />
Wed-25 2nd day-no rain<br />
Thurs-26 Rain today-also clear in morning<br />
Fri-27 Bucket full water this morn-still got our chin up.<br />
Sat-28 Clearest day we have had<br />
Sun-29 Nice clear day. Boy we're getting weak still have our hope<br />
Mon-30 Still going strong on imaginary meals<br />
December Tues-1 My summer is here - went to spring today<br />
Wed-2 Just slid by but Boy it rained<br />
Thurs-3 Kinda cold and cloudy today-still plenty hungry-Boy a cig. would do good<br />
Fri-4 Same ole thing-clear this morn<br />
Sat-5 Boy nothing happened-just waiting<br />
Sun-6 Had service today. Still lots of hope<br />
Mon-7 Year ago today the war started-Boy we didn't think of this then<br />
Tues-8 Nice day - still living on thru this<br />
Wed-9 Cloudy. God is looking out for our water supply<br />
Thurs-10 Just thirty days ago. We can take it but would be nice if someone came<br />
Fri-11 Cold rainy day. We would like to start out before Christmas<br />
Sat-12 Fairly nice day-still plenty of water<br />
Sun-13 Beautiful morning everyone has high hopes<br />
Mon-14 Waiting<br />
Tues-15 Waiting<br />
Wed-16 New water place today<br />
Thurs-17 Running out of imaginary meals. Boys shouldn't be long in coming now. Six more shopping days<br />
Fri-18 Nice and warm this morning. Rained in the afternoon<br />
Sat-19 Pretty cold last night. Cold this morning too. Water pretty low. Five more days till Xmas<br />
Sun-20<br />
Mon-21 Plenty of water<br />
Tues-22 Rained all three days<br />
Wed-23 Thinking about home and Christmas. Still hoping<br />
Thurs-24 Tonite is Christmas eve. God make them happy at home<br />
Fri-25 Christmas Day<br />
Sat-26<br />
Sun-27 Rain every day<br />
Mon-28<br />
Tues-29<br />
Wed-30 Johnnie died today<br />
Thurs-31<br />
Fri-1 New Year's Day<br />
Pat<br />
Mart<br />
TedChristianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-61866730334085347802013-09-24T21:42:00.001-07:002013-11-18T12:32:53.170-08:00Confraternity of Those Who Stand Alone<br />
I know essentially nothing of Senator Ted Cruz other than he describes faith as "<i>a personal relationship with Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior</i>,” and having joined the confraternity of <i>Those Who Stand Alone</i>, is standing alone throughout this night "<i>against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places</i>." Pray it is with the Spirit's leading:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>And there went out a champion out of the camp of the Philistines, named Goliath, of Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span.... And the Philistine said, I defy the armies of Israel this day; give me a man, that we may fight together.... And the Philistine said unto David, Am I a dog, that thou comest to me with staves? And the Philistine cursed David by his gods.... Then said David to the Philistine, Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. This day will the LORD deliver thee into mine hand; and I will smite thee, and take thine head from thee; and I will give the carcases of the host of the Philistines this day unto the fowls of the air, and to the wild beasts of the earth; that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel. And all this assembly shall know that the LORD saveth not with sword and spear: for the battle is the LORD'S, and he will give you into our hands. And it came to pass, when the Philistine arose, and came and drew nigh to meet David, that David hasted, and ran toward the army to meet the Philistine. And David put his hand in his bag, and took thence a stone, and slang it, and smote the Philistine in his forehead, that the stone sunk into his forehead; and he fell upon his face to the earth (1 Samuel 17:4-49).</i></blockquote>
Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-4829789798690394102013-09-12T20:49:00.001-07:002013-09-12T20:49:37.153-07:00Yom Kippur<br />
Yom Kippur, Israel’s most holy Shabbat began at sunset today. The Day of Atonement (Leviticus 23:27-32) is when the Children of Israel are to afflict their souls in anticipation of the Day they shall look upon Him whom they have pierced and mourn for Him, as one mourns for an only son (Zechariah 12:10). This day in Israel is typically a day of fasting, prayer, and silence: the streets still, not as much as a taxi, businesses shuttered, radio stations mute, and the pervading silence even constrains the tongue. This is how it began that tranquil autumn morning of October 6 1973:<br />
<br />
http://theisraelofgod.blogspot.com/2007/02/zvika-force-of-one.html
Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-73992158170147277122013-07-04T08:57:00.001-07:002013-07-04T08:57:53.607-07:00Our Sacred HonorChristianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-45028160389505207542012-11-12T23:16:00.001-08:002012-11-12T23:16:10.565-08:00This DayChristianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-85406901794641577022012-08-31T23:03:00.001-07:002012-08-31T23:03:40.081-07:00
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 2.05pt 0in 6.15pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: text1;">Here is
a portion of a poem my father loved to hear his sister read huddled in the
library on dark and </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-themecolor: text1;">brief December days:</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: text1;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwYJOFzWOKRX7PEmhia-J_ZN4_NZE4Nzm8FM9lpJasKSslRd9atTumVDcb8yVeMHMPqFnQ-K6CEhrYUEHnxoGJK9_hKXrSdiKu1Oyqo3Dmemay5907sVoKX9rSqCaUkNlsvNOxd9h4ug/s1600/Snow-Bound.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwYJOFzWOKRX7PEmhia-J_ZN4_NZE4Nzm8FM9lpJasKSslRd9atTumVDcb8yVeMHMPqFnQ-K6CEhrYUEHnxoGJK9_hKXrSdiKu1Oyqo3Dmemay5907sVoKX9rSqCaUkNlsvNOxd9h4ug/s320/Snow-Bound.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 2.05pt 0in 6.15pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: text1;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 2.05pt 0in 6.15pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Snow-Bound</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 2.05pt 27pt 6pt 12pt;">
<span style="color: #3c2819; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The sun that brief
December day<br />
Rose cheerless over hills of gray,<br />
And, darkly circled, gave at noon<br />
A sadder light than waning moon.<br />
Slow tracing down the thickening sky<br />
Its mute and ominous prophecy,<br />
A portent seeming less than threat,<br />
It sank from sight before it set.<br />
A chill no coat, however stout,<br />
Of homespun stuff could quite, shut out,<br />
A hard, dull bitterness of cold,<br />
That checked, mid-vein, the circling race<br />
Of life-blood in the sharpened face,<br />
The coming of the snow-storm told.<br />
The wind blew east; we heard the roar<br />
Of Ocean on his wintry shore,<br />
And felt the strong pulse throbbing there<br />
Beat with low rhythm our inland air.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 6pt 27pt 6pt 12pt;">
<span style="color: #3c2819; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Meanwhile we did
our nightly chores,--<br />
Brought in the wood from out of doors,<br />
Littered the stalls, and from the mows<br />
Raked down the herd's-grass for the cows<br />
Heard the horse whinnying for his corn;<br />
And, sharply clashing horn on horn,<br />
Impatient down the stanchion rows<br />
The cattle shake their walnut bows;<br />
While, peering from his early perch<br />
Upon the scaffold's pole of birch,<br />
The cock his crested helmet bent<br />
And down his querulous challenge sent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 6pt 27pt 6pt 12pt;">
<span style="color: #3c2819; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Unwarmed by any
sunset light<br />
The gray day darkened into night,<br />
A night made hoary with the swarm,<br />
And whirl-dance of the blinding storm,<br />
As zigzag, wavering to and fro,<br />
Crossed and recrossed the winged snow<br />
And ere the early bedtime came<br />
The white drift piled the window-frame,<br />
And through the glass the clothes-line posts<br />
Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 6pt 27pt 6pt 12pt;">
<span style="color: #3c2819; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So all night long
the storm roared on<br />
The morning broke without a sun;<br />
In tiny spherule traced with lines<br />
Of Nature's geometric signs,<br />
In starry flake, and pellicle,<br />
All day the hoary meteor fell;<br />
And, when the second morning shone,<br />
We looked upon a world unknown,<br />
On nothing we could call our own.<br />
Around the glistening wonder bent<br />
The blue walls of the firmament,<br />
No cloud above, no earth below,--<br />
A universe of sky and snow....<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-60422184528042634362012-03-19T22:31:00.001-07:002013-11-20T00:19:49.538-08:00Not Yet Complete?<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 2.05pt 0in 6.15pt;">
<span style="color: #674ea7;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 2.05pt 0in 6.15pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifgEGHpRluuhZUpsk85_ncmWH36M192KjgdRCVLz0rwo_1ERLdzdnrn-wozGEE0VxvVAxHuw6nBaOd2WJcEwaCipG7f1LoUKWehI_QYC1ZFFBRV9UTYOUJja5G01oakoPGnTwz21H6hQ/s1600/Myrons+Bible.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifgEGHpRluuhZUpsk85_ncmWH36M192KjgdRCVLz0rwo_1ERLdzdnrn-wozGEE0VxvVAxHuw6nBaOd2WJcEwaCipG7f1LoUKWehI_QYC1ZFFBRV9UTYOUJja5G01oakoPGnTwz21H6hQ/s320/Myrons+Bible.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad"</i> (2 Corinthians 5:10).</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"Every man's work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward"</i> (1 Corinthians 3:13-14).</blockquote>
At the last trump, we must appear before the Bema Seat. Which things done in the body with the leading of the Spirit will bring glory to God? Which things done in the body contrary to His Word and Spirit will be consumed by fire?<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"And, behold, I come quickly; and my reward is with me, to give every man according as his work shall be"</i> (Revelation 22:12)</blockquote>
For years I kept this “book without a cover” on my desk at work. Inside the cover, my father-in-law had taped the following words.<br />
<br />
<i>New Life in Christ, Abundant and free!
</i><br />
<i>What glories shine, what joys are mine,
</i><br />
<i>What wondrous blessings I see!
</i><br />
<i>My past with its sin, The searching and strife,
</i><br />
<i>Forever gone, - There's a bright new dawn!
</i><br />
<i>For in Christ I have found new life!</i><br />
<br />
Perhaps his reward is not yet complete?Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-60598054031330005632012-01-03T21:41:00.000-08:002012-01-03T21:42:27.504-08:00The Day of Honor“A good name is better than precious ointment; and the day of death than the day of one’s birth” (Ecclesiastes 7:1).Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-49555824083700344492011-12-24T21:38:00.001-08:002011-12-24T21:38:50.488-08:00A Jewish Christmas StoryChristianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-16688569179221781652011-12-21T22:45:00.000-08:002015-12-24T21:17:16.205-08:00Joy to the WorldAlways thought this was a beautiful hymn, but apparently like so many modern songs, not consistent with His Word: the Savior does not now reign or rule the world with truth and grace, and thorns still infest the ground!<br />
<br />
Searching for the words on the internet tonight, discovered something strange. Found almost a dozen lyrics; each one different. Some politically-corrected the word <em>men</em>. Some changed the tense from <em>is</em> to <em>was</em>. Some deleted or added verses in entirety. The words below are from a disintegrating hymnal in the organ.<br />
<br />
Searching further, discovered the name of this song is not <em>Joy to the World</em>, but rather <em>The</em> <em>Messiah’s Coming and Kingdom</em>! This is both the intended meaning and the name that author Isaac Watts originally pined. <br />
<br />
Hope you will think about the words of this song, and of "<em>the twinkling of an eye</em>" when “<em>heaven and nature</em>” will LITERALLY sing for joy at His coming "<em>while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains repeat the sounding joy</em>": "<em>For you will go out with joy, And be led forth with peace; The mountains and the hills will break forth into shouts of joy before you, And all the trees of the field will clap their hands</em>" (Isaiah 55:12).<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The Messiah’s Coming and Kingdom</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Joy to the world! The Lord is come; </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Let earth receive her King;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Let every heart prepare Him room,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And heaven and nature sing,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And heaven and nature sing,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And heaven and heaven and nature sing.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Joy to the earth, the Savior reigns; </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Let men their songs employ;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
While fields and floods</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
rocks, hills and plains</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Repeat the sounding joy</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Repeat the sounding joy,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Repeat, Repeat, the sounding joy.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
No more let sins and sorrows grow,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Nor thorns infest the ground;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He comes and make the blessings flow</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Far as the curse is found,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Far as the curse is found,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Far as, far as the curse is found.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He rules the world with truth and grace,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And makes the nations prove</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The glories of His righteousness</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And wonders of His love,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And wonders of His love,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And wonders, and wonders of His love.</div>
Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2747899576047994144.post-21949167728337917422011-07-04T23:20:00.001-07:002011-07-04T23:20:33.149-07:00The Faith of Our (Deist) Fathers<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 2.05pt 0in 6.15pt;"><span style="color: #0f243e; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 128;">"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.</span><span lang="EN" style="color: #0f243e; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 128;">"</span><span style="color: #0f243e; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 128;"> (The unanimous </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #0f243e; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 128;">Declaration, </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #0f243e; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 128;">adopted by the Continental Congress, July 4, 1776<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">). This sentence summarizes the essence of the document commonly referred to as the "Declaration of Independence." Appealing to the "</span></span><span style="color: #0f243e; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 128;">Creator,"</span><span style="color: #0f243e; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 128;"> <span lang="EN">"</span></span><span style="color: #0f243e; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 128;">Divine Providence,</span><span lang="EN" style="color: #0f243e; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 128;">" and "the </span><span style="color: #0f243e; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 128;">laws of nature and of nature's God," </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #0f243e; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 128;">to affirm "self-evident" truths, these "truths" are not to be found in Scripture....</span></div>Christianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06511448246257996674noreply@blogger.com0