Biola Broadcaster - 1963-08

I MET THE MASTER I had walked life's way with an easy tread, Had followed where comforts and pleasures led. Until one day, in a quiet place I met the Master face to face. I met Him and knew Him and blushed to see That His eyes full of sorrow were fixed on me, And I faltered and fell at His feet that day While my castles melted and vanished away. Melted and vanished, and in their place. Naught else did I see but the Master's face. And I cried aloud, "Oh, make me meet To follow the steps of Thy wounded feet." M y thought is now for the souls of men, I have lost my life to> find it again, E'er since one day in a quiet place, I met the Master face to face. * No man ever got* lost on the straight and narrow path. * * * FRET NOT THYSELF Far in the future Lieth a fear, Like a long, low mist of grey, 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 grey, Like a goom of brooding mist upon the way. But the Lord is always kind, * *

TO TAKE HOLD The spider taketh hold with hands And is in palaces of kings, She spins the finest, silken threads To build a stair to openings. Contrived to stand the strain and stress; Well engineered, this dew-pearled lace— Designed to reach a window sill Or veil a purple pansy's face. Unloved by all, she is struck down— Her hours of labor all in vain, Undaunted, she will build her stair To rise and fall, yet climb again. There is a ladder Christ has made And planted firmly in the sod, The bottom touches Calvary— The other end is held by God. By faith, man taketh hold with hands While the God of Heaven, earth and sea Smiles down from palaces on high, Where man may dwell . . . eternally. — Esther Heins TIME TO PRAY I got up early one morning And rushed right into the day; I had so much to accomplish That I didn't take time to pray. Problems just tumbled about me And heavier came each task— Why doesn't God help me? I won­ dered, He answered, "You didn't ask." I wanted to see joy and beauty But the day toiled on, grey and bleak; I wondered why God didn't show me, He said, "But you didn't seek." I tried to come into God's presence I used all my keys at the lock— God gently and lovingly chided, "M y c.hild, you didn't knock." I woke up early this morning And paused before entering the day, I had so much to accomplish That I had to take time to pray. — Louise Dawson

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

Thy heart be troubled, Neither let it be afraid.

— Amy Carmichael

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