TOO BUSY Too busy to read a chapter a day, Too busy, yes, much too busy to pray, Too busy to think of our wasted past In this whirlwind life which we know won't last. Too busy to speak a word of cheer, To the heart-broken friend, that stands so near; Too busy to help lift his heavy load, That he's trying to carry on life's rough road. Too busy gathering the dollars and dimes, For the worth-while things we haven't time, The devil keeps whispering "Grab your share, Why waste precious hours ini prayer." Perhaps when we reach that pearly- white throne, God will be too busy to call us His own. So let us calm down to a slower pace, Be ready to meet Jesus face to face. BOARD OF ABSENTEES We are the Board of Absentees; We attend our church just about as we please; We judge it will run for itself, you know, And Sundays, we're just too tired to go! We are the Board of Absentees; A t business meetings our chance we seize To tell exactly how things should be run, But we lift not a finger to get them done. We are the board of Absentees; Men and women of all degrees; "Shall we give Up the church? Oh, never, never! Do we go each Lord's day? Well scarcely ever!" We look for a world far better than this, A world of peace and of moderate bliss, A day of right through the Seven Seas, But just now though, we're the Board of Absentees!
TO THE UTTERMOST Save me, Lord, from a heart that's cold. Save me, too, from the curse of gold. Save me from worldly, carnal ways. Save me, Lord, from the snares of praise. Keep me from pride and selfishness. Keep me from greed and slothful ness. Keep me from seeking men to please Keep me from aimless, careless ease. Help me to witness faithfully. Help me to bring lost men to Thee. Help me, Thy sheep to love and feed. Help me, my brother's cause to plead. Cause me to worship and adore. Cause me to love Thee more and more. Cause me to live expectantly. Cause me, Thy coming, Lord, to see. — Don W . Hillis I DO IT UNTO THEE Lord of all pots and pans and things, since I've no time to be A saint by doing lovely things, or watching late with Thee, Or dreaming in the dawnlight, or storming heaven's gates, Make me a saint by getting meals and washing up the plates. Although I must have Martha's hands I have a Mary mind; And when I black the boots and shoes, Thy sandals, Lord, I find. Accept this meditation, Lord, I haven't time for more. Warm all the kitchen with Thy love and light it with Thy peace; Forgive me all my worrying, and make my grumbling cease. Thou who didst love to give men food, in room or by the sea, Accept this service that I do for I do it unto Thee.
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