Limits of Learning
No biologist can define the complexity called life.
Scan its processes as he may,behold its endless strife,
Mark its multitude of changes, scrutinize its varied forms,
Catalogue its swift transitions, ponder angels, ponder worms—
When his research all is ended he proclaims the fact to be
That life escapes analysis, shrouds itself in mystery.
The wisest of philosophers, our race’s greatest brains,
Men capable of organizing elaborate thought trains,
Unanimously will agree their wisdom’s sum is naught
If asked to tell precisely, exactly what is thought.
It is the stock they deal in, increasing with their years,
And yet its full description baffles their long careers.
The keenest theologians, religion’s holy sages,
Illuminate with power the Scripture’s sacred pages;
They write in burning prose the product of their labor—
The determined right relationship of man to God and neighbor-
Yet no divine who ever in that august procession trod
Can yield an adequate answer to the question, “What is God?”
Across our ken in each direction, finiteness draws a line,
While each renewed investigation stamps us almost divine.
Lines in Pain and Grief
When systems are not “go”
And all plans fall apart;
When lead, a ton or so,
Weighs crushing on the heart;
When praying seems in vain,
The heavens brass o’erhead;
When days are endless pain
And nights are rife with dread;
When those you love, love not,
And treat each other wrong,
When lifeblood starts to clot,
And souls are robbed of song--
What can the helpless do
But grieve, lament, and mope?
I choose to trust in You,
My ever living Hope.
I am not forsaken,
You walk my trail of tears.
Though my soul is shaken
Its day of triumph nears.
Be lifted up, my heart!
Your God will faithful be--
The threat’ning sea will part,
You’ll hymn His victory.
Lines to God
If I could write a symphony
To describe Your love for me
With it’s rich and constant boons,
I would employ such magic tunes
And utilize such vibrant words
As pour from happy throats of birds.
Alas, their genius is not mine—
I must reluctantly confine
To monotony of phrasing
That artesian stream of praising,
Which blushing for its wont of art,
Is ever flooding from my heart.
Lines to My Lord
In simple rhymes I bring to You
The passion of a heart that’s true;
I can’t express in ornate phrase
The love I feel for You these days.
In my old age, as in my youth,
Adoring You is my life’s truth;
How sere and fruitless days would be
Bereft of Your sweet company!
With You beside me I can greet
Unshaken ev’ry foe I meet;
Nor past nor future can affright,
Nor gradual dimming of the light--
The heart Your love illuminates,
Not even death intimidates.
Do with me, Master, as You must--
I’ll walk with You in joy and trust.
Lines to Myself
Be still and know That God is love,
All things below Are known above.
God is not dead Nor does He sleep;
Have you not read That He will keep
In perfect peace The trusting heart?
Your fretting cease, Bid doubts depart!
Face to the goal,With courage new,
Press on, my soul--He’ll see you through.
My God!
“God of my fathers”--noble phrase!
It tunes my heart to hymn His praise
For all who served in bygone days,
Yet speak with wisdom for my ways.
Their toil and sacrifice conspire
To kindle in my soul the fire
That made them scorn the lash and pyre
For Jesus Christ, their chief desire.
“My God”--a phrase more noble still!
All He has been to them He will
Be also to my life until
His love my thoughts, my actions fill.
A personal Savior, personal Friend,
From journey’s start to journey’s end,
Faithful to guide, strong to defend--
In Him I trust, on Him depend.
Morning Prayer
I thank You, Lord, for this new day,
Help me to live it as I should,
Proceed along Your narrow way,
Spend and be spent doing good.
As I partake of daily food,
Tributes to Your faithfulness,
Fill my mind with gratitude,
That constant praises must express.
Keep from sin my hands and heart,
Make me pure in thought and talk,
Some portion of Your word impart
To light the unsure path I walk.
And if this day should be the last,
May it lead me home to You,
To find, when gates of death are passed,
The promised land of all thing new.
Monday Prayer
It’s Monday, Lord, And I’m on edge.
But in Your word I find this pledge--
“Lo, I am with You all the days...”
Renew my faith, My spirits raise.
What this day brings Help me to face,
Cope with all things With strength and grace.
The Name of Jesus
When I am guilty, sing
To me of Jesus’ name;
That name alone can bring
Release from sin and blame.
When I am weary, speak
His blessed name once more;
It gives strength to the weak
And courage does restore.
When I am lonely, then
Invoke the Savior’s name
Who, forsaken by all men,
Endured the cross of shame.
When I am hurting, say
The Healer’s name again;
It takes my fear away
And eases deepest pain.
When I am grieving, cheer
With Jesus’ name my heart;
In darkness He draws near
To hope and peace impart.
When I am dying, come,
Extol His name in praise--
With Him I’ll be at home
Through everlasting days!
The Oath
(Acts 23:12-14)
More than forty zealots swore
That they would eat and drink no more
Until the apostle Paul was dead--
They must have missed a lot of bread,
For three years later Brother Paul
Still preached Christ to one and all.
Unless those Jews foreswore their swearing,
What baggy britches they were wearing!
The Other Side
If we could know what joys await
The other side of death,
We would not walk with halting gait
Or grudge our final breath.
That City beckons us whose light
Is Jesus Christ. Its glow
Can penetrate the deepest night
To guide our steps below.
Come, let us to that future stride
On eager, hast’ning feet,
Sustained by visions that abide
Whatever pain we meet.
The Pharisee
He prayed to thank the Lord that he
Was unlike all the others;
From heights of cold morality
He scorned his sinning brothers.
I’ve often met his counterpart
Across my years of living--
Consumed with self, cruel of heart,
Aloof and unforgiving.
A man who calls upon the Lord,
His own virtues to recite,
Is doomed to pray alone, unheard--
Deaf to love and blind to light.
I understand why Christ preferred
A company unholy,
Why He persistently conferred
His favors on the lowly.
Who keep the rules but shun the men
Who bleed inside with shame,
They crucify the Christ again
And slander His pure name.
Miracle
I cannot walk on water
Nor stride the boisterous flood,
But I can stand supported
By the Lord’s atoning blood.
Let those who will attempt
To amble on the waves,
I am quite content to know
That Jesus loves and saves.
I cannot make a highway
Through an agitated sea,
But I have been forgiven--
That’s “sign” enough for me.
Make Us Holy
Holy Father, make us holy too!
Let us become in heart like You--
Loving, patient, quick to forgive,
Enabling us in peace to live.
Holy Jesus, make us holy too!
In words and deeds reflecting You--
Willing to serve in lowly ways,
Giving Your name its rightful praise.
Holy Spirit, make us holy too!
Cleanse us from sin, fill us with You.
Empower us Your word to share
With needy persons ev’rywhere.
(Refrain)
Holy One, Your word demands
A holy people, strong and true.
Our hearts, our times, are in Your hands--
Come, Lord, and make us holy too!
My Pastor
My pastor feeds me. His preaching
Informs, inspires, keeps me reaching
For new heights and depths of love
Reflecting that of God above.
My pastor is a man of God
Who gently wields the shepherd’s rod.
His own example calls from me
A patient, strong resolve to be
The kind of man whose life commends
Our holy Savior to his friends.
By words and deeds my pastor leads
To fields of Scripture where the needs
Of all his flock can be supplied
Till they are fully satisfied.
I am convinced my pastor cares
How each church member daily fares,
How each one meets the tests of life
And learns to triumph in its strife.
He keeps us in his thoughts and prayers
And in our joy and sorrow shares.
Good shepherd he--I want him here
To challenge me year after year.
If that, O Lord, can be Your plan
I’ll live and die a grateful man.
An Old Man's Prayer
I'm growing old, none too neatly;
Help me, Lord, to ripen sweetly.
When shaking limbs betray my will,
Grant me a heart steadfast and still.
Close rein my tongue that I may greet
With gracious speech each one I meet.
From paths of right may I not stray,
But walk in truth till ends my day.
Your presence, Lord, my strength must be--
Though frail my grip, hold fast to me!
A Prayer for Our Homes
God of our fathers and mothers,
Defend our assailed homes today!
Just as You saved and kept others,
Redeem and sustain us, we pray.
From terrors that menace by night,
From evils that ravage at noon,
From demons of darkness and light,
Deliver us surely and soon.
From vendors of smut who beguile,
From peddlers of dope who enslave,
From each subtle, death-spreading wile
Of Satan, come swiftly and save.
Cause in our homes to be heard
The voices of prayer and praise;
May counsel from Your guiding Word
Enlighten and master our ways.
God of the triumphs of yore,
Be Lord of our homes in this hour;
O God of the years yet before,
Uphold by Your mercy and power!
Sunday
I greet all days with joy, but this
More joyously than all the rest.
Gave I not thanks, I’d be remiss,
For all are good, but Sunday’s best.
So thank You, Lord, for this grand day
On which unto Your house I go
To worship You, to sing and pray,
Your word to hear, yourself to know.
I join with those who share Your grace,
Those whose sins You have forgiven,
Those running now the upward race
To a finish line called heaven.
From Your blest house I will return
With stronger faith, with deeper love,
To face the week, my bread to earn--
My task below, my goal above!
Sunday Morning Thoughts
I go once more to hear
My pastor preach the Word.
I do so year by year
And ev’ry message heard
Makes me a better man
Than I have been before--
Fulfills the Master’s plan
To change me more and more
Till I become each day
Like Him in ev’ry grace,
His holy love display,
His service-call embrace.
My pastor’s voice becomes
The voice of God as he
My Christian duty sums,
And I more clearly see
How faith in God applies
To all that I must do,
How God in Christ supplies
The pow’r to see me through.
I could not do without he Word that I receive--
It triumphs over doubt
And helps me to believe.
The Joy of Worship
It's such a joy, O Lord, for me
To walk into Your house and be
With Your blessed people as they bring
Their praises unto You and sing
The glories of Your matchless love,
Evoking from Your throne above
More blessings still, as You outpour
Each added grace they hunger for;
To hear with them the gospel preached
By which the wayward heart is reached
And brought to You, forgiving Lord,
Who seals the promise of the Word
By granting them a life made new--
A life of fellowship with You!
From such glad worship I depart
To face the world with God-braced heart.
The Guard
(Matthew 27:65)
Sixteen soldiers, skilled and brave,
Go marching out to guard a grave.
Sixteen soldiers, bronzed and tough--
They surely ought to be enough!
This is no beardless rookie guard,
But grizzled veterans, battle-scarred.
They carry axes, swords and knives,
Prepared to take--or give--some lives.
Off they march to drumbeats steady;
Come what may, these men are ready!
See them go! Tramp... tramp... boom... boom--
A Roman guard for Jesus’ tomb.
Ah, who would dare to tackle these?
Who could bring them to their knees?
Their task is sure--with them about
No one goes in, no one comes out.
Sixteen soldiers brave and skilled--
Trouble them and you’ll be killed!
“This tomb is now secured.” Then why
Is laughter coming from the sky?
The Time Will Come
The time will come, O doubt it not,
When all earth’s woes will be forgot,
When God all tears shall wipe away,
And usher in eternal day.
The time will come, it may be soon,
When light will hold at highest noon,
No shadows come, no darkness fall,
And God will be our all in all.
The time will come, O hear the word,
When all will honor Christ as Lord,
Before Him bow, from Him await
Their final, everlasting fate.
The time will come, short years at most,
When Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Will reign on earth in perfect love
As now they reign in heav’n above.
The time will come, do not despair,
Though sin is rampant ev’rywhere;
Its day is brief, its judgment sure--
In hope persist, by faith endure.
Wealth
"Silver and gold have I none,"
On them I do not rely.
I have the wealth of God's own Son,
Sovereign of earth and sky.
"Such as I have," an untold wealth
Of the gifts and grace of God!
And trusting Him I bid you health--
Rise, walk the paths He trod.
"In the name of Jesus" rise and go,
His healing touch now receive.
Stand on your feet, His mercy show,
That others may believe.
O sinful world, stand not aghast
At such display of holy power,
Confine no miracle to the past--
He lives this very hour!
