Wednesday, 4 June 2014

Teacher's Prayer

I want to teach my students how
To live this life on Earth.
To face it's struggles and it's strife
And to improve their worth.
Not just the lesson in a book
Or how the rivers flow, But how to choose the proper path
Wherever they may go.
To understand eternal truth
And know the right from wrong,
And gather all the beauty of
A flower and a song.
For if I help the world to grow
In wisdom and in grace,
Then I shall feel that I have won
And I have filled my place.
And so I ask your guidance, God,
That I may do my part.
For character and confidence
And happiness of heart.
-James J. Metcalf

Tuesday, 3 June 2014

One More Day to Live

If I had only one more day to live,
All love, praise, and glory to you I’d give.
I’d try my best to put a smile on someone’s face
To share with them your saving grace.

I’d remember things about my life
The times you were there through fun and strife,
And thank you then for all you’ve done.
Without you no victories would have been won.

If I have one more day before I die
I would apologize to the kid I made cry.
I would take back the harsh words said to everyone,
And fill their hearts with laughter and fun.

If I only had one more day
I wouldn’t push anyone away.
I wouldn’t try to hurt a friend
Because I should love them to the very end.

Why not live each day as if it were our last
Looking towards our future and forgetting the past
To be a Christian each day we live
And most importantly to always give.

- Carol Ann
Used with Permission

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Thursday, 24 April 2014

How Faithful is the Lord

I don’t understand the Lord—
No person really can.
The nature of his being
Is beyond the scope of man.
He came from a void of nothing
To create all space and time;
He made the skies and heaven
And he made the sun to shine;.
And he made a puny race
To live on this good earth
And enjoy all that he made
And praise his Mighty Worth.
Yet our Lord is ever merciful
And faithful to all men
Even though we turn from Him
And too often fall to sin.
For when He provides a sunset
And we don’t praise his name,
The next day the sun again will rise
And set again the same.
B. Killebrew

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Friday, 11 April 2014

Two Visitors

By Beth Fisher
Used with Permission

Two visitors came to see me, both at the same time,
Both were trying to win control of my body, heart, and mind
One was dressed quite plainly, one dressed fit to kill,
I couldn’t see the battle they were waging for my will.
One promised to give fame, friends and riches beyond compare,
Anything I wanted, it seemed, and while I was standing there,
He showed me how life could be, for a little while at least,
I couldn’t see beneath the clothes, to recognize the beast.
The other told of hard times, of sacrifice and pain,
Ridicule and persecution, nothing much to gain,
But there was something deep in this visitor’s eyes
That made me feel to choose Him, somehow would be wise.
I guess you know the outcome, I hope my life reflects,
The one I picked, the path I chose, the one that He directs.
But now at last I see Him, as He truly is THE KING!
So, did I choose so poorly, I wonder as I sing…
Eternal praises to my God at last in heaven’s city.
Could I have been richer, more popular, what a pity-
For now all I have to show for the pain and unkind laughter,
Is a crystal mansion on a street of gold, living happily ever after.

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Thursday, 10 April 2014

One Man

by Ryan Corbi
Used with Permission

One man, kneeling
alone in the night
Blood and sweat mix
outflowing in fright
Kneeling, praying
prone on the grass
“From my lips, Father,
let this cup pass.”

One man, standing
scorned, flogged, and beat
Harsh words still echo
there in the heat
“He is no king,”
he heard them cry
“Give us Barabbas!
and him — CRUCIFY!!”

One man, hanging
dying with thieves
Of the thousands who followed
for him, who grieves?
Friends watch at a distance
afraid to go near
Their whole worlds are shattered
their hearts filled with fear.

One man lived and died
in a rich grave was laid
For His blood was shed
that our debt be paid.
But death could not hold Him
resurrected He stands
To him who is weary
outstretched are His hands
In Christ there is rest
a requiem from strife
To him who believes
He will grant eternal life.

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Tuesday, 8 April 2014

A Tale of Three Roman Soldiers

In the cool predawn darkness, three battle-hardened Roman soldiers in full armor are guarding Joseph’s tomb where Jesus was buried three days earlier. Despite strict army regulations, they are talking softly, almost at a whisper, between themselves.
“All men die the same,” one mutters.
This apathetic tone ignites a spark of anger from another. “Not like he did!” was the intense whispering reply. “We spiked him to the cross-bar and hoisted it onto the upright, but I’ll never forget the words that he said during his execution.” Turning his head and looking at the others with fire in his eyes and a narrowed brow, he said with slower more precise diction, “I was responsible for killing him, and he forgave me!”
A third insensitive voice quickly responds, “Haven’t you been a soldier too long to be troubled by a guilty conscience?”
The troubled guard continues to blurt out what he can no longer hold within himself. “The thief next to him asked this Jesus from Nazareth to remember him. Oh, his voice while in this nightmare of sure death and torture! He said, “Today you will be with me in paradise,” and in that instant the sky grew dark. Everyone felt the cold chill in the air then, like all the evil forces in the world were gloating when he cried. He sounded like the loneliest man in the world hanging there. The earthquake knocked me to the ground for a moment, and then the darkness began to lift. That was no mere man I crucified I tell you. He was more than just a mere man! Rarely a tomb is sealed as this one is, let alone guarded.”
In the dull light of the dawn, suddenly appears an angel enveloped within a fiercely bright pure light painful to the eyes as if looking directly into the high noon sun. The air reverberated like a crack of vicious thunder lifting the three Roman soldiers off their feet and throwing them to the ground , rendering them dumbfounded and motionless. Turning toward the six foot stone covering the opening of the grave, this immensely strong creature rolls the stone away from the entry of the tomb. The battle-hardened Roman soldiers sit there trembling, each gazing in unbelief yet knowing they have all seen the same thing.
“Sir! It’s gone! The body is gone!”
“Shut your mouth soldier!” the other shouted, scrambling to his feet.
“I tell you, he’s alive! What are we going to tell the Centurion?”
“You didn’t see anything! We fell asleep or something! You don’t know anything! Got it?” demanded the third.
“But I do know, and I did see, Captain! Jesus is out there alive I tell you! More than alive!”
The other two begin shoving, slapping, and shouting at the believing soldier with panic stricken voices, “Forget this ever happened, Marcus!”
A shaky voice on the verge of tears replies, “Forget it if you can sir, but with all due respect, Jesus is alive, and that changes everything.”
Author Unknown
Submitted by Richard


His Love

Have you ever stopped to wonder
Why they called Good Friday “good”?
It seems to me that sad, black day
Could be misunderstood.

How His Father must have anguished
As He watched His dear Son die,
And not for crimes that He had done,
But for sinners such as I.

What kind of love could be so great,
To suffer willingly
The penalty for someone else;
His blood was shed for me.

But then when Sunday came around
And death had lost its sting,
That glorious morn’ was victory
For Jesus Christ, the King!

Now He’s alive for evermore.
The Father’s will was done.
Forgiveness, pardon, full and free,
By trusting in God’s Son.

It was a “good” Good Friday
For the thief who died there too;
He took his place in Heaven
When that long, dark day was through.

I am grateful to my Saviour:
My life to Him I owe.
I’ll serve and love Him always,
Because He loved me so.

by Rose Newman
Used by Permission

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