Revitalize Your Church

Cardinal John Henry Newman, who will be canonized on October 13, wrote the beautiful and haunting hymn, "Lead Kindly Light" when he was kept far from home due to an unexpected illness and transportation issues. It has been a source of comfort to many, including soldiers in the trenches of World War 1, Betsy Ten Boom (Corrie's sister) in the Nazi concentration camp. and a group of 26 frightened miners who were trapped underground in the 1909 Stanley Pit disaster, where 168 men and boys died in an explosion of poisonous gas. Perhaps it will be a comfort to you in whatever darkness you may be facing.: Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on! Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene; one step enough for me. I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou Shouldst lead me on; I loved to choose and see my path; but now Lead Thou me on! I loved the garish day, and, spite of fe...

 One day, after making a hospital visit in Duluth, Minnesota, I was drawn by the spire of the old First Presbyterian Church. A kind secretary opened up the sanctuary for me to sit and pray for a while.  Gazing around, my eyes fell upon a beautiful stained glass window. It was the picture of a gravestone with dark purple and black hues overshadowing it. But at the top of the window, squarely in the center of a black night, shone a bright golden star -- which seemed to exude hope and light. The star was the focal point of the window.  At the bottom, the following words were inscribed: In memory of Sarah Agnes Graff  1853-1889  Build a little fence of trust around today.  Fill the space with loving work and therein stay.  Look not through the sheltering bars upon tomorrow.  God will help thee bear whatever comes, of joy or sorrow. I wondered what the story was behind Sarah Agnes Graff -- who passed into eternity at the ten...

The settled happiness and security which all desire, God withholds from us by the very nature of the world; but,joy, pleasure, and merriment, He has scattered broadcast. We are never safe but we have plenty of fun and some ecstacy. It is not hard to see why. The security we crave would teach us to rest our hearts in this world and pose an obstacle to our return to God;a few moments of happy love, a landscape, a symphony, a merry meeting with our friends, a bath or a football match, have no such tendency. Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns but will not encourage us to mistake them for home. -- C. S. Lewis

All the Way My Savior Leads Me by Fanny Crosby All the way my Savior leads me; What have I to ask beside? Can I doubt His tender mercy, Who through life has been my Guide? Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort, Here by faith in Him to dwell! For I know, whate’er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well; For I know, whate’er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well. All the way my Savior leads me, Cheers each winding path I tread; Gives me grace for every trial, Feeds me with the living Bread. Though my weary steps may falter, And my soul athirst may be, Gushing from the Rock before me, Lo! A spring of joy I see;Gushing from the Rock before me, Lo! A spring of joy I see. All the way my Savior leads me O the fullness of His love! Perfect rest to me is promised In my Father’s house above. When my spirit, clothed immortal, Wings its flight to realms of day This my song through endless ages—Jesus led me all the way; This my song through endless ages—Jesus led me all the way.

Day by day, and with each passing moment, Strength I find, to meet my trials here; Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment, I’ve no cause for worry or for fear. He Whose heart is kind beyond all measure Gives unto each day what He deems best— Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure, Mingling toil with peace and rest. Every day, the Lord Himself is near me With a special mercy for each hour; All my cares He fain would bear, and cheer me, He Whose Name is Counselor and Power; The protection of His child and treasure Is a charge that on Himself He laid; “As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,” This the pledge to me He made. Help me then in every tribulation So to trust Thy promises, O Lord, That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation Offered me within Thy holy Word. Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting, Ever to take, as from a father’s hand, One by one, the days, the moments fleeting, Till I reach the promised land. "Blott en Dag" by Karolina W. Sandell-Berg, trans...

I think your heart will be touched by this beautiful poem, written by my friend, Michelle Meade (Creator of Remember Me Jewelry .) A Heart's Cry many a tear, many a sigh times of wondering, questioning why is there purpose in the pain? will the sun come out again? all i see is steady rain hear this faint heart up above hear me calling out to ~ Love Love's Response yes, My love you'll fly again higher and farther than you've ever been above the mist of the past you'll soar with Me, free at last don't give up, don't give in keep the ground your standing in I'm right here next to you holding you up, seeing you through with every breath Trust in Me with every step, press closer to Me look for the rainbow in the rain and hear Love calling out your name... "Beloved, you are Mine."

A wonderful Savior is Jesus, my Lord, A wonderful Savior to me. He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock, Where rivers of pleasure I see. He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock, That shadows a dry, thirsty land; He hideth my life in the depth of His love, And covers me there with His hand . -- Fanny Crosby

I appreciated Robert's comment today (below) on this post from a couple of years ago. I am re-posting it in honor of the 167th anniversary of Rev. Maxwell Cornelius' birth: My friend, Mike, bought an old hymnal on e-bay. He carried it up proudly between services a week ago, and said, "Look what I got for 95 cents!" I leafed through the brittle pages, and landed upon these beautiful words. In light of the sufferings and losses I've witnessed in recent months and weeks, it was a blessing to me. Upon researching, I found that the author, Rev. Maxwell Cornelius , had suffered deeply in his life. He penned this poem shortly after the death of his wife, and shared them at her funeral service. Not now, but in the coming years, It may be in the better land, We'll read the meaning of our tears, And there, sometime, we'll understand. -- Maxwell N. Cornelius (Hymn 82 in Tabernacle Hymnal) Some day, we will read the meaning of our tears. There is meaning in every d...

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, Thou who has brought us thus far on the way; Thou who has by Thy might Led us into the light, Keep us forever in the path, we pray. Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee, Lest, our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee; Shadowed beneath Thy hand, May we forever stand, True to our God, True to our native land. James Weldon Johnson (Quoted in benediction prayer at the inauguration by Joseph Lowrey)

This is a re-posting of something I wrote a couple of years ago. I used it in my sermon this morning, and several people asked for a copy of the poem. It's a touching story. One day, after making a hospital visit in Duluth, Minnesota, I was drawn by the spire of the old First Presbyterian Church. A kind secretary opened up the sanctuary for me to sit and pray for a while. Gazing around, my eyes fell upon a beautiful stained glass window. It was the picture of a gravestone with dark purple and black hues overshadowing it. But at the top of the window, squarely in the center of a black night, shone a bright golden star -- which seemed to exude hope and light. The star was the focal point of the window. At the bottom, the following words were inscribed: In memory of Sarah Agnes Graff 1853-1889 Build a little fence of trust around today. Fill the space with loving work and therein stay. Look not through the sheltering bars upon tomorrow. God will help thee bear whatever comes, if joy ...

Troubled in spirit this week, I happened upon this beautiful hymn in the old Methodist Hymnal. It was written by a rural pastor, Hugh Stowell, and published in The Winter's Wreath (1828) From every stormy wind that blows, From every swelling tide of woes, There is a calm, a sure retreat: Tis found beneath the mercy seat. There is a place where Jesus sheds The oil of gladness on our heads; A place than all beside more sweet; It is the blood bought mercy seat. There is a scene where spirits blend, Where friend holds fellowship with friend; Tho' sundered far, by faith they meet Around one common mercy seat.

I have had my sorrows, and I have had my joys. My sorrows have been sweeter than my joys. -- St. Chrysostom