Upright, simple, free from art, Make me as a weaned child; From distrust and envy free, Pleased with all that pleases Thee. What Thou shalt today provide, Let me as a child receive; What tomorrow may betide, Calmly to Thy wisdom leave; 'Tis enough that Thou wilt care, Why should I the burden bear? As a little child relies On a care beyond his own; Knows he's neither strong nor wise; Fears to take a step alone; Let me thus with Thee abide, As my Father, Guard, and Guide. Thus preserved from Satan's wiles, Safe from dangers, free from fears, May I live upon Thy smiles. Till the promised hour appears, When the sons of God shall prove All their Father's boundless love. — John Newton MOVING COSTS EVERYONE If you have just moved, or are planning to do so, you know all that is involved. But did you realize that your move can also cost the Lord's work? If you have moved and have not as yet informed us, from now on it will cost Biola 8 cents (rather than 4) in order to have the post office give us the in formation concerning your new address. If you use a post card, or the forms provided by the post office, this will mean a sub stantial savings for the work of the Lorcf. With a quarter of the population moving every year, according to statistics, you can well imagine what this will ulti mately mean for Biola. Thank you for your prayer ful help in this, as well as in our other ministries for the Lord Jesus Christ.
THE WILL OF GOD Among the papers of an African mission ary, who gave his life for the cause of Christ, this beautiful poem was found. Laid on Thine altar, O my Lord Divine, Accept my gift this day, for Jesus' sake; I have no jewels to adorn Thy shrine, Nor any world-famed sacrifice to make; But here I bring within my trembling hands This will of mine, a thing that seemeth small, Yet Thou alone, O Lord, canst under stand How, when I yield Thee this, I yield Thee all. Hidden therein, Thy searching gaze can see Struggles of passion, visions of delight, All that I have, or fain would be, Deep loves, fond hopes, and long ings infinite; It hath been wet with tears, and dim med with sighs. Clenched in my grasp, till beauty hath it none; Now from Thy footstool, where it vanquished lies, The prayer ascendeth, "M ay Thy will be done." Take it, 0 Father, ere my courage fail, And merge it so with Thine own, that e'en If in some desperate hour my cries prevail, And Thou give back my gift, it may have been So changed, so purified, so fair have grown, So one with Thee, so filled with love divine, I may not know or feel it as my own, But gaining back my will, may find it Thine. * * * The best eraser in all the world is a good night's sleep with cares com mitted to the Lord. * * * THE CHILD Quiet, Lord, my forward heart, Make me teachable and mild,
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