Kindred Spirits

My thanks to Christina for passing on this award. (Consider yourself "awarded" back!)

I would like to recognize a few other ladies for the special encouragement they are to me:

Andrea
Chantel
Leah
Sarah
Katrina
Bethany

(Here are the guidelines for passing on the award.)

If you have some time and are searching for encouragement, I urge you to check out any/each of these blogs, and enjoy the other ones on my blogroll as well! Prepare to be blessed!

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

What language shall I borrow...

O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns, Thine only crown;
How art thou pale with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn!
How doth Thy visage languish that once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior! ’Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favour, vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

My burden in Thy Passion, Lord, Thou hast borne for me,
For it was my transgression which brought this woe on Thee.
I cast me down before Thee, wrath were my rightful lot;
Have mercy, I implore Thee; Redeemer, spurn me not!

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.

—At­trib­ut­ed to Ber­nard of Clair­vaux, translated from La­tin to Eng­lish James W. Al­ex­and­er