THERE IS A TIME There is a time, I know not when, A place, I know not where, Which marks the destiny of men, For Heaven or despair. There is a line, by us not seen, Which crosses every path; The hidden boundary between God's patience and God's wrath. To cross that limit is to die. To die as if by stealth, It may not pale the beaming eye, Nor quench the glowing health. The conscience may be still at ease. The spirit light and gay, That which is pleasing still may please, And care be thrust away. But on that forehead God hath set Indelibly a mark, By man unseen, for man as yet Is blind and in the dark. How long may man go on in sin, How long will God forbear? Where does hope end, and where begin The confines of despair? One answer from the skies is sent: Ye who from God depart,
Christianity is not a coat to put on, but rather a life to adorn the soul within.
THEY THAT WA IT UPON THE LORD They shall mount up with wings as eagles, And there above the clouds shall know Heights of spiritual experience, Quite unknown to those below. They shall run and not be weary, For the race is to the swift and sure; They shall win Olympic victories Which for time and for eternity endure! But . . . when life's pace is slackened For a weary, way-worn saint, 'Tis then the promise seems most precious, "They shall walk . . . and yet not faint!" — Rosella Thiessen THE WORLD— the greatest company TH AT HE GAVE— the greatest act H IS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON— the greatest gift THAT WHOSOEVER— the greatest opportunity BELIEVETH— the greatest simplicity IN H IM — the greatest attraction SHOULD NOT PERISH— the greatest promise BUT— the greatest difference HAVE— the greatest certainty ETERNAL LIFE— the greatest posses sion THE GOLDEN TEXT GOD— the greatest lover SO LOVED— the greatest degree
While it is yet today, repent, And harden not your heart.
Praise makes a good man better and and a bad man worse.
A GRANDMOTHER'S PRAYER A sweet rosebud in your garden The Lord has entrusted to you; Supplying the rain and the sunshine And kiss of the fresh morning dew. Be careful tilling the soil there— Surroundings H e 's’ left up to you. So seek His wisdom in guiding And the rose, full-blown, will come through. — Bernice Dauphin
Nothing cooks your goose quicker than a boiling temper.
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