Did you think To put you in a furnace Would not scorch your skin? To come out gold With easy glee And not the surfacing of sin? Or that boiling water hot Would like a warm bath Scathe you not? Like sinking in so comfortably To fire should come easily?

Sometimes Christians lose sight of the gospel. I’ve been there. You give yourself over to ruthless self examination and slip into works righteousness thinking that loses sight of hope. You’ve seen that your heart is fickle. One second you worship God and the next you curse men who are made

What will I do with satan’s thorn Lodged deep in weakest access point? No pill to take No treatment makes It well, no method has supplied A cure, Steps stumble; Backward falls The soldier, boldly with a limp But limping on He goes, he goes, A carefully crafted grin All

When I search my mind for a favorite hymn “Abide With Me” rises quickly to the surface. CyberHymnal.org gives us this information about the circumstances surrounding the writing of this hymn by Henry Lyte in 1847: Lyte was inspired to write this hymn as he was dying of tuberculosis; he

Share It With Me God’s wonders all around It takes a two year old to see The tiny movements in the feet Of the gathering bee. This day if I alone Went for a walk down by the slue I would not tromp through long, thick grass To find the

Learned, but have I really learned To trust? Hoped in God, yet other times In dust. Treasures high, but also some That rust. Desired God; not always, But I must. Hungry, thirsty, satisfied And filled, Yet other times all empty Wanting, nil. Reaching for His word I must Be still,

Now it seems His hand has turned Against you, Yes, has seen you sinking And has pressed your head Beneath the waves. You think “To catch a breath, ‘Tis one small favor, Can’t He see?” But yes, He sees; So why do gray skies Blacken more And gray waves Lash

Did I hear my Savior cry And did I see Him suffer? Did He with sorrow and in grief Not ask “Is there another?” “Another way for death to die, Or must this bitter cup be mine?” “The only way?” He cried, He cried And knowing, yes, bowed and complied.

I craved for a firm foundation
Where to stand and not be shaken
A place for roots to go down deep
For treasure that would always keep
Which neither time nor fault could stain-
A hope unfading to remain.

The book of Job shocks its reader at almost every point. We avoid it, we are confused by it, terrified by it, scandalized by it, and certainly if we’re honest- we want no part in it. Who would? These are nice lessons for Job- nice lessons to read about- but