Poem


My sister in the Lord, Beth, who blogs at I Once Was Lost, recently shared this poem in a comment. It’s both true and beautiful. Thank you, Beth!


Yellow Pink Rose Flower by Emilian Robert Vicol from Com. Balanesti, Romania

 

The Rose

It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of God’s design,
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.

The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I,
The flower God opens so sweetly,
In my hands would fade and die.

I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of God’s design,
Then how can I have wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?

So I’ll trust Him for His leading
Each moment of every day
And I’ll look to Him for His guidance
Each step of the pilgrim way.

For the pathway that lies before me
My heavenly Father knows
I’ll trust Him to unfold the moments
Just as He unfolds the rose.

~By Author Unknown~


 

Supping with the Puritans – Mrs Anne Bradstreet, 2


Anne and Simon Bradstreet raised eight children. She was one of the first poets to write English verse in the American colonies. 

Poets.org bio


The bitter and sweet of life!


Proverbs 31:10

GNV

10 ¶ Who shall find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above the pearls.


Before the Birth of One of Her Children

poets.org

Anne Bradstreet, 1612 – 1672

🍂

All things within this fading world hath end,
Adversity doth still our joys attend;
No ties so strong, no friends so dear and sweet,
But with death’s parting blow are sure to meet.
The sentence past is most irrevocable,
A common thing, yet oh, inevitable.
How soon, my Dear, death may my steps attend,
How soon’t may be thy lot to lose thy friend,
We both are ignorant, yet love bids me
These farewell lines to recommend to thee,
That when the knot’s untied that made us one,
I may seem thine, who in effect am none.
And if I see not half my days that’s due,
What nature would, God grant to yours and you;
The many faults that well you know I have
Let be interred in my oblivious grave;
If any worth or virtue were in me,
Let that live freshly in thy memory
And when thou feel’st no grief, as I no harmes,
Yet love thy dead, who long lay in thine arms,
And when thy loss shall be repaid with gains
Look to my little babes, my dear remains.
And if thou love thyself, or loved’st me,
These O protect from stepdame’s injury.
And if chance to thine eyes shall bring this verse,
With some sad sighs honor my absent hearse;
And kiss this paper for thy dear love’s sake,
Who with salt tears this last farewell did take.


 

Supping with the Puritans – Mrs Anne Bradstreet, 1


“Anne Bradstreet was born Anne Dudley in 1612 in Northamptonshire, England. She married Simon Bradstreet, a graduate of Cambridge University, at the age of 16. Two years later, Bradstreet, along with her husband and parents, immigrated to America with the Winthrop Puritan group, and the family settled in Ipswich, Massachusetts. There Bradstreet and her husband raised eight children, and she became one of the first poets to write English verse in the American colonies.”

Poets.org bio


The bread and meat of life!


Job 1:20-22

gnv

20 Then Job arose, and rent his garment, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground, and worshipped,

21 And said, Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken it: blessed be the Name of the Lord.

22 In all this did not Job sin, nor charge God foolishly.


Verses upon the Burning of our House, July 10th, 1666

By Anne Bradstreet

Poetry Foundation

🍂

Here Follows Some Verses Upon the Burning of Our house, July 10th. 1666. Copied Out of a Loose Paper.

🍂

In silent night when rest I took,

For sorrow near I did not look,

I wakened was with thund’ring noise

And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.

That fearful sound of “fire” and “fire,”

Let no man know is my Desire.

I, starting up, the light did spy,

And to my God my heart did cry

To straighten me in my Distress

And not to leave me succourless.

Then, coming out, behold a space

The flame consume my dwelling place.

And when I could no longer look,

I blest His name that gave and took,

That laid my goods now in the dust.

Yea, so it was, and so ’twas just.

It was his own, it was not mine,

Far be it that I should repine;

He might of all justly bereft

But yet sufficient for us left.

When by the ruins oft I past

My sorrowing eyes aside did cast

And here and there the places spy

Where oft I sate and long did lie.

Here stood that trunk, and there that chest,

There lay that store I counted best.

My pleasant things in ashes lie

And them behold no more shall I.

Under thy roof no guest shall sit,

Nor at thy Table eat a bit.

No pleasant talk shall ’ere be told

Nor things recounted done of old.

No Candle e’er shall shine in Thee,

Nor bridegroom’s voice e’er heard shall be.

In silence ever shalt thou lie,

Adieu, Adieu, all’s vanity.

Then straight I ’gin my heart to chide,

And did thy wealth on earth abide?

Didst fix thy hope on mould’ring dust?

The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?

Raise up thy thoughts above the sky

That dunghill mists away may fly.

Thou hast a house on high erect

Frameed by that mighty Architect,

With glory richly furnished,

Stands permanent though this be fled.

It’s purchased and paid for too

By Him who hath enough to do.

A price so vast as is unknown,

Yet by His gift is made thine own;

There’s wealth enough, I need no more,

Farewell, my pelf, farewell, my store.

The world no longer let me love,

My hope and treasure lies above.

🌸

pelf – property, goods; originally “booty”


 

WHEN IS THE TIME TO TRUST?

Read this and trust!

PEACEMAKERS

Let me prove, I pray thee, but this once with the fleece – Judg 6:39

There are degrees to faith. At one stage of Christian experience we cannot believe unless we have some sign or some great manifestation of feeling. We feel our fleece, like Gideon, and if it is wet we are willing to trust God. This may be true faith, but it is imperfect. It always looks for feeling or some token besides the Word of God. It marks quite an advance in faith when we trust God without feelings. It is blessed to believe without having any emotion.

There is a third stage of faith which even transcends that of Gideon and his fleece. The first phase of faith believes when there are favorable emotions, the second believes when there is the absence of feeling, but this third form of faith believes God and His Word when…

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TIME AND ETERNITY

Friend, may we repent of wasted time – I need to. Repentance honors the Lord Jesus Christ!

I ONCE WAS LOST

A re-post because time has been on my mind a lot lately…

TIME AND ETERNITY

Oh time, how few thy value weigh,
How few will estimate a day!
Days, months and years are rolling on,
The soul neglected and undone!

In painful cares, or empty joys,
Our life its precious hours destroys:
While death stands watching at our side,
Eager to stop the living tide.

Was it for this, ye mortal race,
Your Maker gave you here a place?
Was it for this his thought design’d
The frame of your immortal mind?

For nobler cares, for joys sublime,
He fashion’d all the sons of time;
Pilgrims on earth, but soon to be
The heirs of immortality.

This season of your being, know,
Is giv’n to you– your seeds to sow;
Wisdom and folly’s differing grain
In future world is bliss or pain.

Then let me every day review,
Idle or…

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