Est.

 In His Hands 'Twixt gleams of joy and clouds of doubt Our feelings come and go; Our best estate is tossed about In ceaseless ebb and flow.   No mood of feeling, form of thought Is constant for a day; But thou, 0 Lord, thou changest not: The same thou art alway. I grasp thy strength, make it mine own, My heart with peace is blest; I lose my hold, and then comes down Darkness, and cold unrest. Let me no more my comfort draw From my frail hold of Thee, In this alone rejoice with awe—- Thy mighty grasp of me. Out of that weak, unquiet drift That comes but to depart, To that pure heaven my spirit lift Where thou unchanging art. Lay hold of me with Thy strong grasp, Let Thy almighty arm In its embrace my weakness clasp, And I shall fear no harm. Thy purpose of eternal good Let me but surely know; On this I'll lean—let changing mood And feeling come or go— Glad when Thy sunshine fills my soul, Not lorn when clouds o'ercast, Since Thou within thy sure control Of love dost hold me ...

 I suppose one might almost expect it of Charles Wesley; apparently he wrote a few poems or hymns on the occasions of his birthday (one for his wife's birthday too!)  1 Away with our fears, The glad morning appears, When an heir of salvation was born! From Jehovah I came, For his glory I am, And to him I with singing return. 2 Thee, Jesus, alone, The fountain I own Of my life and felicity here: And cheerfully sing My Redeemer and King, Till his signs in the heav'ns appear. 3 With thanks I rejoice In thy fatherly choice Of my state and condition below; If of parents I came Who honour'd thy name, 'Twas thy wisdom appointed it so. 4 I sing of thy grace, From my earliest days, Ever near to allure and defend; Hitherto thou hast been My preserver from sin, And I trust thou wilt save to the end. 5 O the infinite cares And temptations and snares Thy hand hath conducted me through! O the blessings bestow'd By a bountiful God, And the mercies eternally new! 6 What a mercy is ...

 Here's the link to the latest song I recorded.   https://youtu.be/-XtaNJRAsKQ?is=pKOIn5W1xBtwkfaA

 𝗠𝗬 𝗥𝗨𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘! My ruling desire is to be wholly given up to the Lord and to His work, and to show forth His praises from day to day. But when I aim at this most--I am baffled, opposed, and always hindered! I see what is wrong, but cannot avoid it. I see what is right, but cannot attain unto it. I know what I wish, but I cannot enjoy it. I read what God commands, but I cannot perform it. In the midst of all, I bless God . . .    for Jesus Christ,    for free grace,    for a full salvation,    for abiding comfort,    for a good hope,    for sweet views of Jesus,    for a glorious inheritance,    for an assurance of victory, and    for the promise of eternal triumph! Nothing can . . .   separate me from Jesus,   turn the current of His love from me, or   change the purposes of His grace for me. His love is astonishing! His ways are marvelous! I change; He remains ...

 

 https://youtu.be/UR00CqHysSg?si=Nsg3dR6U1XO1CZhU Yesterday I recorded this song that was sparked off by the sermon I heard on Sunday.  I hope you are encouraged by it! 

I hope these quotes from Elizabeth Prentiss, (1818 – 1878), challenge, bless and encourage you, as they do for me.   The longer I live, the more conscious I am of my human frailty—and of the constant, overwhelming need I have of God's grace. Dying grace is not usually given until it is needed. Death, to the disciple of Jesus, is only stepping from one room to another and far better room of our Father's house. And how little all the sorrows of the way will seem to us, when we get to our home above. You never will be really happy—until Christ becomes your dearest and most intimate friend. Seek God—not joy. God delights to try our faith by the conditions in which He places us. What are trials, but angels to beckon us nearer to Him. What does it matter, after all, from what point of time or space, that we go to our eternal home. O how we shall smile after we get there—that we ever gave it one moment's thought. In proportion to your devotion to the Savior—will be the blessedness...

  Thank You Heavenly Father for Your amazing Love for Your people. 

 A friend lent me a very encouraging booklet. Here's one of the many true accounts I read in it today. I hope you are also encouraged by it.  "Dr. F. B. Meyer was once crossing the Atlantic. The captain asked him to preach in the saloon on Sunday morning. He spoke on “answered prayer” and gave a number of illustrations. An agnostic was present and someone said to him, “What do you think of Meyer’s sermon?” “Oh,” he said, “I don’t believe a word of it.” Dr. Meyer was speaking that afternoon to the passengers in the steerage (second-class) end of the ship. The agnostic picked up two oranges, put them in his pocket and walked over to the meeting. As he threaded his way in and out amongst the steerage folk, he came across an old lady with silvery hair, her eyes closed in sleep, her head back and her hands open on her lap. He took the two oranges out of his pocket and placed them in her hands, and went on to the meeting. When he came back the old lady was eating one of the oranges....

 

 https://youtu.be/qdYbdW_NIN8?si=2fSlXazbwf-QhcqS I wrote the first verse and chorus of this song back when I was 9 or 10. I hope you are blessed as you watch/listen. 

“God’s love is deeper than human sorrow, and how deep that is my appointed lot gives me daily and deepening experience. But drop your plummet-line into the deepest sea of sorrow, and at the end of all your soundings “underneath are the everlasting arms.” God’s love is deeper than death, and there are multitudes who know how deep grim death can be. “Just twelve months ago,” said a near friend of mine a week or two ago, “I dug a deep grave!” Aye, and I know it was deep enough. But the grave-digger’s spade cannot get beneath our Father’s love. God’s love is deeper than the deepest grave ever dug! “And entering into the sepulchre they saw an angel,” and you can never dig into any dreary, dreary dwelling of death which is beyond the reach of those white-robed messengers of eternal love. Yes, God’s love is deeper than death. “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” And God’s love is deeper than sin, One night, when I was recently crossing the Atlantic, an officer of our ...

I heard this poem earlier today.  While I knew the premise years ago, it was good to have this powerful reminder.  "He had no rights: No right to a soft bed, and a well-laid table; No right to a home of His own, a place where His own pleasure might be sought; No right to choose pleasant, congenial companions, those who could understand Him and sympathize with Him; No right to shrink away from filth and sin, to pull His garments closer around Him and turn aside to walk in cleaner paths; No right to be understood and appreciated; no, not by those upon whom He had poured out a double portion of His love; No right even never to be forsaken by His Father, the One who meant more than all to Him. His only right was silently to endure shame, spitting, blows; to take His place as a sinner at the dock; to bear my sins in anguish on the cross. He had no rights. And I? A right to the "comforts" of life? No, but a right to the love of God for my pillow. A right to physical safety? No...

"There was a school with a class of students that no teacher had been able to handle. Two or three teachers had been run off from this school in one year by the unruly students. A young man, just out of college, heard about the class and applied to the school. The principal asked the young man, “Do you know what you are asking for? No one else has been able to handle these students. You are just asking for a terrible beating.” After a few moments of silent prayer, the young man looked at the principal and said, “Sir, with your consent I accept the challenge. Just give me a trial basis.” The next morning the young man stood before the class He said to the class, “Young people, I came here today to conduct school. But I realize I can’t do it by myself. I must have your help.” One big boy, they called Big Tom, in the back of the room whispered to his buddies, “I won’t need any help. I can lick that little bird all by myself.” The young teacher told the class that if they were to have...