“HENCEFORTH—Not unto Themselves”

(Photo from Chapel Library Facebook)

Oh, the bitter shame and sorrow,

That a time could ever be,

When I let the SAVIOUR’S pity

Plead in vain, and proudly answered:

‘All of self, and none of Thee.’

Yet He found me: I beheld Him

Bleeding on the accursed tree,

Heard Him pray: ‘Forgive them, Father;’

And my wistful heart said faintly:

‘Some of self, and some of Thee.’

Day by day His tender mercy,

Healing, helping, full and free,

Sweet and strong, and ah! so patient,

Brought me lower, while I whispered:

‘Less of self, and more of Thee.’

Higher than the highest heaven,

Deeper than the deepest sea,

LORD, Thy love at last hath conquered;

Grant me now my supplication:

‘None of self, and all of Thee.’

http://www.chapellibrary.org/files/archive/pdf-english/luje.pdf

My Jewels

"Shall I hold them back--my jewels?

Time has traveled many a day

Since I laid them by forever,

Safely locking them away;

And I thought them yielded wholly,

When I dared no longer wear

Gems contrasting, oh, so sadly!

With the adorning I would wear.

"Shall I keep them still--my jewels?

Shall I, can I, yet withhold

From that living, loving Saviour

Aught of silver or of gold?

Gold so needed, that His gospel

May resound from sea to sea;

Can I know Christ's service lacketh

Yet forget His 'unto Me?'

"No; I lay them down--my jewels,

Truly on the altar now

Stay! I see a vision passing

Of a gem-encircled brow.

Heavenly treasure worn by Jesus,

Souls won through my gift outpoured;

Freely, gladly I will offer

Jewels thus to crown my Lord."

~ From Woman's Work.

(copied from Kept for the Master's Use, 

Frances R. Havergal

To a Waterfowl

 Image: Jeffrey Klinefelter

 Whither, 'midst falling dew,
While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,
Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue
      Thy solitary way?

     Vainly the fowler's eye
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,
As, darkly painted on the crimson sky,
      Thy figure floats along. 

Seek'st thou the plashy brink
Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,
Or where the rocking billows rise and sink
      On the chafed ocean side? 

      There is a Power whose care
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,--
The desert and illimitable air,--
       Lone wandering, but not lost. 

     All day thy wings have fann'd
At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere:
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,
      Though the dark night is near. 

     And soon that toil shall end,
Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest,
And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend
      Soon o'er thy sheltered nest. 

    Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven
Hath swallowed up thy form; yet, on my heart
Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given,
      And shall not soon depart. 

    He, who, from zone to zone,
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,
In the long way that I must tread alone,
      Will lead my steps aright.

1815 

By William Cullen Bryant

Be Not Blind

 Photo by EL.G

Be Not Blind to the Shining of His Face - Amy Carmichael

Far in the future lieth a fear;
Like a long, low, mist of gray,
Gathering to fall in dreary rain;
Thus doth thy heart within thee complain.
And even now thou art afraid, for round thy dwelling
The flying winds are ever telling
Of the fear that lieth gray
Like a gloom of brooding mist upon the way.

But The Lord is always kind;
Be not blind, be not blind To the shining of His face,
To the comforts of His grace.
Hath He ever failed thee yet?
Never, never. Wherefore fret?
O fret not thyself, nor let They heart be troubled,
Neither let it be afraid.

Near, by thy footfall, springeth a joy, Like a new-blown little flower
Growing for thee, to make thee glad.
Let thy countenance be no more sad,
But wake the voice of joy and health within thy dwelling,
And let thy tongue be ever telling,
Not of fear that lieth gray, But of little flowers beside the way.

For the Lord is always kind,
Be not blind, be not blind To the shining of His face,
To the comforts of His grace.
He hath never failed thee yet.
Never will His love forget.
O fret not thyself, nor let Thy heart be troubled,
Neither let it be afraid.

(Image Credit: Filatova Marina)

“Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit

Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste

Brought death into the world, and all our woe,

With loss of Eden, till one greater Man

Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,

Sing heavenly muse”

~John Milton, Paradise Lost

A Birthday Prayer

Lord Thou hast been our dwelling  place in all generations. Psalm 90:1

My dwelling place, Lord, You have been,
The God who saved me from my sin.
Yet as I see the years roll by
And know that I so soon must die ,
I cannot help but make this plea
That You would give me eyes to see ;
My days to count your grace impart
That I might gain a prudent heart ;
With steadfast love please satisfy
That you alone may gratify
The deepest longings of my soul
And constitute my all and all.  

~ My Birthday Prayer

~ B. Gonzales

Complete in Christ

For in him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily. And ye are complete in him, which is the head of all principality and power. Colossians 2:9-10

Complete in Him! Oh, Lord, I flee,
Laden with this great thought, to Thee
With tears and smiles contending, cry,
Are words like these for such as I?

Complete in Him! No word of mine
is needed, Lord, to perfect Thine;
Wise Master-Builder, Let Thy hand
Fashion the fabric Thou hast planned.

Complete in Him! I nothing bring,
Am an imperfect, useless thing;
But human eyes shall joy to see
What God's dear hand shall add to me.

Complete in Him! Oh, longed-for-day,
When my poor, sinful heart can say,
Naught in myself, for ruin meet,
In Jesus Christ I stand complete!

~ From Golden Hours: Hymns and Songs of the Christian Life by Elizabeth Prentiss

But Dust

He remembereth that we are dust. ~ Psalm 103:14

Oh how in this thy quire of souls I stand,
--Propt by thy hand--
A heap of Sand!
Which busie thoughts--like winds--would scatter quite,
And Put to flight,
But for thy might;
Thy hand alone doth tame
Those blasts, and knit my frame.

~ Henry Vaughan

He Goes Before

Dark is the sky! and veiled the unknown morrow;
Dark is life's way, for night is not yet o'er;
The longed-for glimpse I may not meanwhile borrow;
But, this I know, HE GOETH ON BEFORE.

Dangers are nigh! and fears my mind are shaking;
Heart seems to dread what life may hold in store;
But I am His--He knows the way I'm taking,
More blessed still--HE GOETH ON BEFORE.

Doubts cast their weird, unwelcome shadows o'er me,
Doubts that life's best--life's choicest things are o'er;
What but His Word can strengthen, can restore me,
And this blest fact; that still HE GOES BEFORE.

HE GOES BEFORE! Be this my consolation!
He goes before! On this my heart would dwell!
He goes before! This guarantees salvation!
HE GOES BEFORE! And therefore all is well.
--J. D. Smith

A Manger Was a Throne

’Tis He that Life and Spirit doth infuse:
Let ev’ry thing
The Praises sing
Of Christ the King of Jews;
Who makes things green, and with a Spring infuse
A Season which to see it doth not use:
Old Winter’s Frost and hoary hair,
With Garland’s crowned, Bays doth wear;
The nipping Frost of Wrath b’ing gon,
To Him the Manger made a Throne,
Du Praises let us sing,
Winter and Spring.

From On Christmas Day, by Thomas Traherne

Looks like a white Christmas around here, as we're coming out from one of the biggest snowstorms in a very long time. Spring seems so far off when you have a huge storm this early, but we can be assured it's coming. I happened upon this poem today and thought this particular stanza fitting. I love what it says about the the "Nipping Frost of Wrath" being gone and the call for both Winter and Spring to sing the praises of the Christ Child.

But the phrase I love the most is the one about the Manger being made a throne. Isn't that just a fantastic thought? Wow. Yes, that is pretty deep, but how true. You see, wherever the King of Kings rests Himself, it is indeed a throne.

From here at Scraps of Glory, may I wish whoever it is that comes by, a most blessed Christmas, bowing before His throne, even when a manger.

I Am My Neighbor's Bible

Another poem that was included in a birthday card from my mom contains sweetly worded truths that are always worth remembering. I think all too often we get hung up on what's important to ourselves personally, while failing to consider our effect on the world around us.

I am my neighbor's Bible

He reads me when we meet;

Today he reads me in my home--

Tomorrow on the street.

He may be relative or friend

Or slight acquaintance be;

He may not even know my name,

Yet he is reading me.

And pray, who is this neighbor

Who reads me day by day,

To learn if I am living right

And walking as I pray?

Oh, he is with me always

To criticize or blame;

So worldly-wise in his own eyes,

And "sinner" is his name.

Dear Christian friends and brothers,

If we could only know

How faithfully the world records

Just what we say and do,

Oh, we would write our record plain

And come in time to see

Our worldly neighbor won to Christ

While reading you and me.

~ Anon

What a message Mom has left for me even though there are times it gets forgotten. I ask the Lord to embed these words in my heart.

Paper Momentos - Poems from Mom

I've been cleaning out drawers and closets this week and included in all that is a container and box holding greeting cards, notes, letters, and misc. wedding invitations and programs. I've been going through these items, trying to decide what to throw out as the pile has been growing over the years. Needless to say, I've been having trouble allowing myself to trash any of the precious memories contained in these various stationery items. How can I discard that heartfelt note of thanks written to me by my dear friend? Or the words of comfort written by another while my mom was here in our home during her dying weeks? Can I let the garbage man shred up any of the funny little notes or pictures my children wrote or drew when wee ones? I just can't. I'm afraid someone else will have to do it.

And then there are the greeting cards. Since I've been married, I have every card given to me by my husband and children. No way are they being trashed. It was when I started looking through the birthday cards my mom gave me over the years that I gave up on my initial project. Instead, I transferred everything into plastic ziploc bags for safekeeping. They may be just pieces of paper in plastic bags, but to me they are worth more than gold. There is no amount of money that anyone could give me that would surpass their value. They'll be worth very little to anyone else in the world, but to me they are priceless. So they stay for as long as I stay.

I found an extra blessing while going through my mom's cards. I forgot that in her later years she began taping poems to my birthday cards, poems which she had carefully cut out with pinking shears from some unknown source. I didn't appreciate those poems then nearly as much as now. Partly because she's gone, of course, but also because I appreciate poetry more as I grow older. So bear with me as I share with you a few of these poems from my mom in this and a few of the following posts coming up.

Some of the cards have the year recorded, but this one didn't. The card was a beautiful shade of pale blue/green and was entitled "A Daughter's Loving Ways," containing a lovely poem of its own, but these were the words lovingly taped to the left inside:

I can no longer grasp your tiny hand and lead you across a street,
Nor tuck you in at night against the chill,
Nor kiss your precious flawless baby face,
But, I can pray.

I can no longer take you to the House of God,
Nor read to you from His precious Holy Word,
Nor tell you what is right, and what is wrong,
But, I can pray.

For you are grown and from my constant care are gone,
To choose YOUR way and live YOUR life,
And be what you WILL in YOUR own way,
But, I STILL pray.

~ Mabel B. Rambo


And she did.

Dear Soul, Be Still

Be still! Just now be still!
Something thy soul hath never heard,
Something unknown to any song of bird,
Something unknown to any wind, or wave, or star,
A message from the Fatherland afar,
That with sweet joy the homesick soul shall thrill,
Cometh to thee if thou canst but be still.

"Be still! Just now be still!
There comes a presence very mild and sweet;
White are the sandals of His noiseless feet.
It is the Comforter whom Jesus sent
To teach thee what the words He uttered meant.
The willing, waiting spirit, He doth fill.
If thou would'st hear His message,
Dear soul, be still!

--Unknown

My Life

My life shall touch a dozen lives

before this day is done,

Leave countless marks for good or ill

ere sets the evening sun,

This is the wish I always wish,

the prayer I always pray;

Lord, may my life help other lives

it touches by the way.

~Anon

Following After Abraham

"By faith Abraham, when he was called to go out into a place which he should after receive for an inheritance, obeyed" (Heb. 11:8).

If we were to follow in the steps of Abraham, we would follow the Lord's leading even when we don't know the where. This can be especially challenging during the dark times. These thoughts from today's Streams in the Desert should be a reminder that He'll take our hand when the need is greatest:

The day had gone; alone and weak
I groped my way within a bleak
And sunless land.
The path that led into the light
I could not find! In that dark
night God took my hand.

He led me that I might not stray,
And brought me by a new, safe way
I had not known.
By waters still, through pastures green
I followed Him--the path was clean
Of briar and stone.

The heavy darkness lost its strength,
My waiting eyes beheld at length
The streaking dawn.
On, safely on, through sunrise glow
I walked, my hand in His, and lo,
The night had gone.
--Annie Porter Johnson

The Fool

The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God. . .Psalm 14:1a


"'There is no God,' the fool in secret said:
There is no God that rules or earth or sky.'
Tear off the band that binds the wretch's head,
That God may burst upon his faithless eye!
Is there no God?—The stars in myriads spread,
If he look up, the blasphemy deny;
While his own features, in the mirror read,
Reflect the image of Divinity.
Is there no God?—The streams that silver flows,
The air he breathes, the ground he treads, the trees,
The flowers, the grass, the sands, each wind that blows,
All speak of God; throughout, one voice agrees,
And, eloquent, his dread existence shows:
Blind to thyself, ah, see him, fool, in these!"

Giovanni Cotta.

On Time

I don't know what to say, but something has happened to time. It has accelerated. It's eating up the hours, days, weeks, months, and years at a much more rapid pace. Is it just me or are you noticing it too? Have you noticed that something that you thought happened just a week ago was actually a month before? How about when you think something happened last year and it was really two, maybe even three years back? Well, I looked and saw how long it's been since I made the last post here and was flabbergasted. And just when I wanted to try to make more posts, more little brief stops. Oh well, such it is when time flies. John Milton had it right, though:


Fly envious Time, till thou run out thy race,
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours,
Whose speed is but the heavy Plummet's pace;
And glut thyself with what thy womb devours,
Which is no more than what is false and vain,
And merely mortal dross;
So little is our loss,
So little is thy gain.
For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd,
Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss
With an individual kiss;
And Joy shall overtake us as a flood,
When everything that is sincerely good
And perfectly divine,
With Truth, and Peace, and Love, shall ever shine
About the supreme Throne
Of him, t'whose happy-making sight alone,
When once our heav'nly-guided soul shall climb,
Then all this Earthy grossness quit,
Attir'd with Stars, we shall for ever sit,
Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee
O Time.


~ John Milton - 1633

I blindly ask for what I crave,

With haughty heart and will so stout;

He oft denies me what I seek,

But gives me grace to do without.

~ Anon.

New Year Wishes

I asked the New Year for some motto sweet,
Some rule of life by which to guide my feet.
I asked and paused; it answered soft and low,
"God's will to know."
`Unknown

I wish this for you and me, dear friends. I appreciate each and every one who stops by to visit. Your comments and encouragements have meant more than you can know. Blessings for the year 2009 and beyond. Signing off with words from one of my favorite hymns for the new year:

O Jesus, I have promised to serve Thee to the end;
Be Thou forever near me, my Master and my Friend:
I shall not fear the battle if Thou art by my side,
Nor Wander from the pathway if Thou wilt be my guide.

~ John E. Bode

He'll be Here Tomorrow

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Hebrews 13:8

This is a verse we all have to hold before us. It seems a good one to remind myself of right now, since of late there are times that little worries creep in about the tomorrows that are coming: Little worries about what the tomorrows will bring regarding health issues; what they will bring for our children and grandchildren; what they will bring to our country; what they will bring in certain financial situations; what they will bring to the Church; and more. I certainly don't want the little worries to turn into big ones, do I? This verse helps. It helps because it reinforces the wonderful truth that the God who brought us through the yesterdays will never change, not today nor tomorrow, nor the days after tomorrow. He was here yesterday; He's here today; and so He'll be here tomorrow. So, dear friends, let's all ponder this precious verse of just nine words. A lot is packed into those nine words for the current and future worries.

Today's poem from Streams in the Desert fits perfectly right now. It was a curative to me; hope it is for you too if you're worrying about the future.

"There's a stream of trouble across my path;
It is black and deep and wide.
Bitter the hour the future hath
When I cross its swelling tide.
But I smile and sing and say:
'I will hope and trust alway;
I'll bear the sorrow that comes tomorrow,
But I'll borrow none today.'

"Tomorrow's bridge is a dangerous thing;
I dare not cross it now.
I can see its timbers sway and swing,
And its arches reel and bow.
O heart, you must hope alway;
You must sing and trust and say:
'I'll bear the sorrow that comes tomorrow,
But I'll borrow none today."'