I Wait

So I haven't posted many of my own thoughts here lately... but the quotes, lyrics and verses I have been sharing is always some glimpse of what's on my heart. Sometimes there just isn't anything to say that someone else hasn't already captured with much more clarity and wisdom than I can. One preacher put it like this, "I never have an original thought; I'm just a walking quote." 

I am working on a few things literary, but I'm not sure when/if they will be finished or if they will be posted. But, read on. Elisabeth Elliot's writing has been such an encouragement to me over the years, and I trust you will be blessed by it as well!

I wait.

Dear Lord, Thy ways

Are past finding out,

Thy love too high.

O hold me still

Beneath Thy shadow.

It is enough that Thou

Lift up the light

Of Thy countenance.

I wait—

Because I am commanded

So to do. My mind

Is filled with wonderings.

My soul asks, "Why?"

But then the quiet word,

"Wait thou only

Upon God."

And so, not even for the light

But for Thee, dear Lord,

I wait.

—Passion & Purity, p. 72
(c) 1984, 2002 by Elisabeth Elliot

When I Say I Am A Christian

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I'm not shouting, "I am saved!"
I'm whispering, "I was lost!"
That is why I need this way

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride
I'm confessing that I stumble
And need someone to be my Guide

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I'm not saying I am strong
I'm professing that I'm weak
And need His strength to carry on

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success
I'm admitting I have failed
And cannot ever pay the debt

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect
My flaws are oh-so-visible
But God is not finished yet

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain
I have my share of heartaches
But I want to bless His name

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I do not wish to judge
I haven't much authority
I only know I'm loved

-By Carol Wimmer

The most beautiful shade of red...

"Be Mine" the words said
Written in the most beautiful shade of red.
Never before had her eyes beheld
Nor, in the depths of her heart, had she felt
This kind of feeling before.
She wanted to know more.
She read on quickly with excitement
And in amazement her soul leapt
As the words made it all so clear,
The very thing she needed to hear.
"I love you more than life,
My Dear, and in My love there is no fear.
You see, it was for this Holy love
That I gave My life and shed My blood.
I've given freely, to you, this treasure,
This gift which is beyond measure."
Could it be true, her eyes opened wide.
For it was at that moment she realized
The emptiness she had felt inside
Would now be wholly, completely satisfied
With this love, offered without cost.
It was true. She had been lost.
"There is only one thing I must ask of you."
"What is it?" she asked. "Anything I will do."
"Be mine and only mine, you must give me your life,
It's kind of like becoming my wife.
You'll be my bride and I will come back for you.
And I want you to be ready in all that you do."
Her answer was "Yes" and in those words,
The angels singing in heaven could be heard.
"Be Mine" the words said with sacrificial love
Written and sealed in her Saviour's blood.
—Author Unknown

On Letting Go

Elisabeth Elliot wrote in a book of hers, "When the will of God crosses the will of man, one of them must die." Is it our way that is wiser, higher, kinder than our Creator's? It never can be so.
So many times I think something would bring me joy and delight, and yet, the Lord very firmly closes that door. I don't pretend to know the reasons, or understand His ways, but I do know that whatever the Lord does is right... and can only be in faithfulness, in goodness, in kindness.

Reading this week, I came across this short poem. There's so much meaning packed into that simple line: "You never did let go."

As children bring their broken toys,
With tears, for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God
Because He is my Friend.
But then, instead of leaving Him
In peace, to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help
With ways that were my own.
At last, I snatched them back and cried,
"How can You be so slow?"
"My child," He said, "What could I do?
You never did let go."

—Author Unknown

And run not before Him...

Take time to be holy, speak oft with thy Lord;
Abide in Him always, and feed on His Word.
Make friends of God’s children, help those who are weak,
Forgetting in nothing His blessing to seek.

Take time to be holy, the world rushes on;
Spend much time in secret, with Jesus alone.
By looking to Jesus, like Him thou shalt be;
Thy friends in thy conduct His likeness shall see.

Take time to be holy, let Him be thy Guide;
And run not before Him, whatever betide.
In joy or in sorrow, still follow the Lord,
And, looking to Jesus, still trust in His Word.

Take time to be holy, be calm in thy soul,
Each thought and each motive beneath His control.
Thus led by His Spirit to fountains of love,
Thou soon shalt be fitted for service above.

—William D. Longstaff

"It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD."

(Lamentations 3:26)

His Way is Perfect

When my way seems dark and drear, and the future I don't know
My heart feels so empty as the tears unending flow
When my heart breaks with sorrow and a tempest fills my soul
This one thing I know for sure: My God is in control.

His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Though I don't understand His wise and loving plan
His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Take my life and make a vessel purified
God makes no mistakes— His way is best.

When the toils of life are come and my heart is worn with care,
I faint 'neath the burden of a cross I cannot bear.
When the joy has departed from my sorrow-stricken soul,
This one thing I know for sure: my God is in control.

His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Though I don't understand His wise and loving plan
His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Take my life and make a vessel purified
God makes no mistakes— His way is best.

—Betsy Kistler

To love Thee with all of my heart...

Set my heart, O dear Father, On Thee, and Thee only,
Give me a thirst for Thy presence divine.
Lord, keep my focus on loving Thee wholly,
Purge me from earth; Turn my heart after Thine.

A passion for Thee; O Lord,
Set a fire in my soul and a thirst for my God.
Hear Thou my prayer, Lord Thy power impart.
Not just to serve, but to love Thee with all of my heart.

Father fill with Thy Spirit, and fit me for service,
Let love for Christ ev'ry motive inspire,
Teach me to follow in selfless submission,
Be Thou my joy and my soul's one desire.

—Joe Zichterman

Emptied that HE should fill me...

Just a song the Lord has been reminding me about. To have real joy and be used by Him, surrender is not simply an option.

Emptied that Thou shouldest fill me,
A clean vessel in Thy hand;
With no power but as Thou givest
Graciously with each command.

Jesus, fill now with Thy Spirit
Hearts that full surrender know;
That the streams of living water
From our inner man may flow.

Channels only, blessèd Master,
But with all Thy wondrous power
Flowing through us, Thou canst use us
Every day and every hour.

—Mary E. Max­well, alt.

My Will is Not My Own...

How I love this song! It has inspired me countless times when I really don't feel like being "enslaved" or "resigning my crown"! But He is good, and all His judgements are right.

Make me a captive, Lord, and then I shall be free.
Force me to render up my sword, and I shall conqueror be.
I sink in life's alarms when by myself I stand;
Imprison me within Thine arms, and strong shall be my hand.

My heart is weak and poor until it master find;
It has no spring of action sure, it varies with the wind.
It cannot freely move till Thou has wrought its chain;
Enslave it with Thy matchless love, and deathless it shall reign.

My will is not my own till Thou hast made it Thine;
If it would reach a monarch's throne, it must its crown resign.
It only stands unbent amid the clashing strife,
When on Thy bosom it has leant, and found in Thee its life.

—George Matheson

His Eye is On the Sparrow...

As always—because I need the exhortation/encouragement myself.

Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home,
When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

"Let not your heart be troubled," His tender word I hear,
And resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears;
Though by the path He leadeth, but one step I may see;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

Whenever I am tempted, whenever clouds arise,
When songs give place to sighing, when hope within me dies,
I draw the closer to Him, from care He sets me free;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

I sing because I'm happy!
I sing because I'm free!
For His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.

—Civilla D. Martin

What the Almighty Can Do

Just one of the songs that have been on my heart lately – so good, and so helpful at putting my focus back into perspective!

Praise to the Lord, who o'er all things so wondrously reigneth,
Shelters thee under His wings, yea, so gently sustaineth!
Hast thou not seen how thy desires e'er have been
Granted in what He ordaineth?

Praise to the Lord, who hath fearfully, wondrously, made thee;
Given thee life, and, with loving hand, guided and stayed thee;
How oft in grief hath He not brought thee relief?
Wings of His mercy did shade thee.

Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work and defend thee;
Surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee;
Ponder anew what the Almighty can do,
When, in His love, He befriends thee.

Praise to the Lord, who, when tempests their warfare are waging,
Who, when the elements madly around thee are raging,
Biddeth them cease, turneth their fury to peace,
Whirlwinds and waters assuaging.

Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore Him!
All that hath life and breath, come now with praises before Him;
Let the Amen sound from His people again,
Gladly for aye we adore Him.

—Joachim Neander; translation by Catherine Winkworth

Wherever you are in your life right now, take heart and press on... for He is GOOD, and His way is perfect.

The Sacrifice

When I saw this on a friend's blog, I knew it was far too good not to pass on. It struck a chord in my heart, and I hope it may inspire someone else as well.

Laid on Thine alter, O my Lord divine,
Accept my gift this day, for Jesus' sake,
I have no jewels to adorn Thy shrine,
Nor any world-famed sacrifice to make;
But here I bring within my trembling hands,
This will of mine, a thing that seemeth small,
Yet Thou alone, O Lord, canst understand
How when I yield Thee this, I yield my all.

Hidden therein Thy searching gaze can see
Struggles of passion, visions of delight,
All that I have, or am, or fain would be,
Deep loves, fond hopes, and longings infinite;
It hath been wet with tears, and dimmed with sighs,
Clenched in my grasp, till beauty hath it none;
Now from Thy footstool, where it vanquished lies,
The prayer ascendeth, "May Thy will be done."

Take it, O Father, ere my courage fail,
And merge it so into Thine own will, that e'en
If in some desperate hour my cries prevail,
And Thou give back my gift, it may have been
So changed, so purified, so fair have grown,
So one with Thee, so filled with love divine,
I may not know or feel it as by own,
But gaining back my will, may find it Thine.

—My Sacrifice, C. T. Russell

Earth's Dark Shadows Flee...

Jesus, I am resting, resting,
In the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.
Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee,
And Thy beauty fills my soul,
For by Thy transforming power,
Thou hast made me whole.

O, how great Thy loving kindness,
Vaster, broader than the sea!
O, how marvellous Thy goodness,
Lavished all on me!
Yes, I rest in Thee, Belovèd,
Know what wealth of grace is Thine,
Know Thy certainty of promise,
And have made it mine.

Simply trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
I behold Thee as Thou art,
And Thy love, so pure, so changeless,
Satisfies my heart;
Satisfies its deepest longings,
Meets, fulfils my every need,
Compasseth me round with blessings:
Thine is love indeed!

Ever lift Thy face upon me
As I work and wait for Thee;
Resting 'neath Thy smile, Lord Jesus,
Earth's dark shadows flee.
Brightness of my Father's glory,
Sunshine of my Father's face,
Keep me ever trusting, resting,
Fill me with Thy grace.

—Jean S. Pigott

Unfolding The Rose

I saw this sweet poem on a friend's blog and I just had to share. It reminded me that when things in life seems to be behind my assumed timetable... when I long to see what my life's rose will look like... I can trust that the Father, in His wisdom, will unfold each petal in HIS time. For His way is perfect.

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.

If 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.

—Anonymous

The Master Weaver's Plan

My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me
I may not choose the colours –
He knows what they should be
For He can view the pattern
Upon the upper side
While I can see it only
From this, the underside.

Sometimes He weaveth sorrow,
Which seemeth strange to me;
But I will trust His judgement,
And work on faithfully;
'Tis He who fills the shuttle,
And He knows what is best,
So I shall weave in earnest,
Leaving to Him the rest.

Not 'til the loom is silent,
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why;
The dark threads are as needed,
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.

—Author Unknown

This Is What It Means...

Something that's been on my heart lately...

Letting go of cherished dreams,
Laying my will at the cross,
Giving every hope to God,
Clinging tighter through each loss;
This is what it means to die;
This is what it means to give
Heart, and soul, and mind to Him,
Fully yielded life to live.

All I lived for, all I loved,
All my passions, goals, and plans,
Each ambition, wish, desire,
I must leave within His hands.
This is what it means to die;
This is what it means to trust
Life and future to my Lord;
All I know is that I must.

Giving up my stubborn will,
Losing it within His own
Rooting up so painfully
All the hopes and dreams I'd sown;
This is what it means to die;
This is what it takes to grow;
Though He slay me, I will praise—
I can trust His heart, I know.

Trusting Him for every day,
Following where'er He leads,
Loving Him with heart and soul,
Knowing He'll meet every need;
This is what it means to live;
This is what it means to rest
Confident His faithful hand
Only giveth what is best.

"And Jesus answered them, saying, The hour is come, that the Son of man should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal." (John 12:23-25)

Dreams Must Die

I know what I want, O Lord, my God,
And it is right, and pure, and good;
And yet, I feel a tug within
To give it up; obey I would.

The struggle is, thus far, intense—
Why must I give up my dreams?
I want Your will, Your way, Your time;
This is Your way? So strange, it seems!

Why must that I treasure most
Thus be given, dreams must die?
Why must cherished hopes be broken,
Dashed, and crushed; why, Lord, why?

Dreams must die; like grains of corn
Must be buried, fruit to bear,
Even so, my will must die;
My life I give—I'm in Your care.

When Your plan at last is shown
More beautiful, I know, 'twill be
Than all the castles, bright and fair,
I build upon this sand I see.

And so, 'til then, I walk by faith,
Trusting wholly in Your way,
Leaning ever on Your arm,
Finding strength for each new day.

Disappointment - His Appointment

Disappointment—His appointment;
Change one letter, then I see
That the thwarting of my purpose
Is God's better choice for me.
His appointment must be blessing
Though it may come in disguise;
For the end, from the beginning,
Open to His vision lies.

Disappointment—His appointment.
Whose? The Lord who loves me best,
Understands and knows me fully,
Who my faith and love would test.
For like loving earthly parents
He rejoices when He knows
That His child accepts unquestioned
All that from His wisdom flows.

Disappointment—His appointment;
No good things will He withhold.
From denials oft we gather
Treasures of His love untold.
Well He knows each broken purpose
Leads to a fuller, deeper trust,
And the end of all His dealings
Proves our God is wise and just.

Disappointment—His appointment;
Lord, I take it then as such,
Like clay in the hands of the Potter
Yielding wholly to His touch.
My life's plan is all His moulding;
Not one single choice be mine.
Let me answer unrepining,
“Father, not my will, but Thine.”

—Author Unknown

I Will Tell My Griefs to Him

All my griefs by Him are ordered
Needful is each one for me,
Every tear by Him is counted,
One too much there cannot be;
And if when they fall so thickly
I can own His way is right,
Then each bitter tear of anguish
Precious is in Jesus' sight.

For too well my Saviour loved me
To allow my life to be
One long, calm, unbroken summer,
One unruffled, stormless sea;
He would have me fondly nestling
Closer to His loving breast,
He would have that world seem brighter
Where alone is perfect rest.

Though His wise and loving purpose,
I cannot yet clearly see,
I believe with faith unshaken,
All will work for good to me;
Therefore when my way is gloomy,
And my eyes with tears are dim,
I will go to God my Father,
I will tell my griefs to Him!

—Author Unknown

A Rose From Brier

Thou hast not that, My child, but thou hast Me;
And am not I alone enough for thee?
I know it all, know how thy heart was set
Upon this joy which is not given yet.

And well I know how though the wistful days
Thou walkest all the dear familiar ways
As unregarded as a breath of air;
But there in love and longing, always there.

I know it all; but from thy brier shall blow
A rose for others. If it were not so
I would have told thee. Come, then, say to Me:
"My Lord, my Love, I am content with Thee."

—Amy Carmichael