we become totally unashamed of the testimony of our Lord, we may ex pect the malicious assault of the ene mies of the Gospel. The hymn writer questioned his own soul, “Must I be carried to the skies on flowery beds of ease? While others fought to win the prize, and sailed through bloody seas?” Our answer is, “Of course not! Thank God there is a prize to win. There is a heaven to gain. There is a hell to shun.” Notwithstanding the persecution Paul was enduring for the Gospel’s sake, he triumphant ly declared, “I am not ashamed: for I know whom I have believed, and NOT SHORTENED "Not shortened!” No! His hand is never shortened, Although at times, His coming shows delay; Nor is His ear at any time e’er heavy, E en if, to heed our cry. He strange doth stay. Not shortened!” No! His hand will ever save us; He nothing knows of problems or of tasks; His powers remain forever all-avail ing To reach, and save, and lift, which we may ask. “Not shortened!” No! Yet, some time He doth tarry; He sees, and knows, and sure His hand will save; But He doth love our feeble faith to strengthen. And we can honor Him by faith that’s brave. —J. Danson Smith SHARING The food that I share with others Is the food that nourishes me. The strength that I spend for others Is the strength that I retain. The freedom I seek for others Shall take away my pain.
am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day.” A trial may be great and the afflictions may be gruesome. None of these things will move the servant of God. We can be assured that “Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eter nal weight of glory. . . . The suffer ings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (II Cor. 4:17; Rom. 8:18). In His hands I am safe forevermore, kept by His power! The load that I lift from others Makes my load disappear. The good that I see in others My greatest good shall be. The love that I feel for others Comes back my life to cheer. The path that I walk with others Is that path God walks with me. MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND Our life is like the dial of a clock The hands are God's hands passing o’er and o’er, The short hand is the Hand of Dis cipline. The long, the Hand of Mercy ever more. Slowly and surely Discipline must pass, And God speaks, at each stroke His word of grace. But ever on the Hand of Mercy moves, With blessings sixty-fold the trials efface. Each moment counts a blessing from our God, Each hour a lesson in His school of Love. Both hands are fastened to a pivot sure. The great unchanging Heart of God above. —Samuel M. Zwemer
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