Encouragement
From The Ballad of the White Horse by G.K.
Chesterton
The men of the East may spell the stars,
And times and triumphs mark,
But the men signed of the cross of Christ
Go gaily in the dark.
The men of the East may search the scrolls
For sure fates and fame,
But the men that drink the blood of God
Go singing to their shame.
The wise men know what wicked things
Are written on the sky,
They trim sad lamps, they touch sad strings,
Hearing the heavy purple wings,
Where the forgotten seraph kings
Still plot how God shall die.
But you and all the kind of Christ
Are ignorant and brave,
And you have wars you hardly win
And souls you hardly save.
I tell you naught for your comfort,
Yea naught for your desire,
Save the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher.
Night shall thrice night over you,
And heaven an iron cope.
Do you have joy without a cause,
Yea, faith without a hope?
New Year 1945 by Dietrich
Bonhoeffer
With every power for good to stay and guide me,
comforted and inspired beyond all fear,
I'll live these days with you in thought beside me,
and pass, with you, into the coming year.
The old year still torments our hearts, unhastening:
the long days of our sorrow still endure.
Father, grant to the soul thou hast been chastening
that thou hast promised--the healing and the cure.
Should it be ours to drain the cup of grieving
even to the days of pain, at thy command,
we will not falter, thankfully receiving
all that is given by thy loving hand.
But should it be thy will once more to release us
to life's enjoyment and its good sunshine,
that we've learned from sorrow shall increase us
and all our life be dedicate as thine.
To-day, let candles shed their radiant greeting:
lo, on our darkness are they not thy light,
leading us haply to our longed-for meeting?
Thou canst illumine e'en our darkest night.
When now the silence deepens for our harkening,
grant we may hear thy children's voices raise
from all the unseen world around us darkening
their universal paean, in thy praise.
While all the powers of Good aid and attend us,
boldly we'll face the future, be it what may.
At even, and at morn, God will befriend us,
And oh, most surely on each new year's day!
Title and author unknown
Drop a pebble in the water
Just a splash and it’s gone,
But there’s half a hundred ripples
Circling on and on and on,
Spreading from the center,
Flowing out to sea
And there’s no way of telling where
The end is going to be.
Drop a pebble in the water,
In a moment you forget.
But there’s little waves a-flowing,
And there’s ripples circling yet.
And those little waves a-flowing
To a great big wave have grown.
You disturbed a mighty ocean
Just by dropping in a stone.
Eternal Ink by Craig F. Pitts
I dreamed I was in heaven
Where an angel kept God’s book.
He was writing so intently
I just had to take a look.
It was not, at first, his writing
That made me stop and think
But the fluid in the bottle
That was marked eternal ink.
This ink was most amazing,
Dark black upon his blotter
But as it touched the parchment
It became as clear as water.
The angel kept on writing,
But as quickly as a wink
The words were disappearing
With that strange eternal ink.
The angel took no notice,
But kept writing on and on.
He turned each page and filled it
Till all its space was gone.
I thought he wrote to no avail,
His efforts were so vain
For he wrote a thousand pages
That he’d never read again.
And as I watched and wondered that
This awesome sight was mine,
I actually saw a word stay black
As it dried upon the line.
The angel wrote and I thought I saw
A look of satisfaction.
At last he had some print to show
For all his earnest action.
A line or two dried dark and stayed
As black as black can be,
But strangely the next paragraph
Became invisible to see.
The book was getting fuller,
The angel’s records true,
But most of it was blank, with
Just a few words coming through.
I knew there was some reason,
But as hard as I could think,
I couldn’t grasp the significance
Of that eternal ink.
The mystery burned within me,
And I finally dared to ask
The angel to explain to me
Of his amazing task.
And what I heard was frightful
As the angel turned his head.
He looked directly at me,
And this is what he said…
I know you stand and wonder
At what my writing’s worth
But God has told me to record
The lives of those on earth.
The book that I am filling
Is an accurate account
Of every word and action
And to what they do amount.
And since you have been watching
I must tell you what is true;
The details of my journal
Are the strict accounts of YOU.
The Lord asked me to watch you
As each day you worked and played.
I saw you as you went to church,
I saw you as you prayed.
But I was told to document
Your life through all the week.
I wrote when you were proud and bold,
I wrote when you were meek.
I recorded all your attitudes
Whether they were good or bad.
I was sorry that I had to write
The things that make God sad.
So now I’ll tell the wonder
Of this eternal ink,
For the reason for its mystery
Should make you stop and think.
This ink that God created
To help me keep my journal
Will only keep a record of
Things that are eternal.
So much of life is wasted
On things that matter not
So instead of my erasing,
Smudging ink and ugly blot.
I just keep writing faithfully and
Let the ink do all the rest
For it is able to decide
What’s useless and what’s best.
And God ordained that as I write
Of all you do and say
Your deeds that count for nothing
Will just disappear away.
When books are opened someday,
As sure as heaven is true;
The Lord’s eternal ink will tell
What mattered most to you.
If you just lived to please yourself
The pages will be bare,
And God will issue no reward
For you when you get there.
In fact, you’ll be embarrassed,
You will hang your head in shame
Because you did not give yourself
In love to Jesus’ Name.
Yet maybe there will be a few
Recorded lines that stayed
That showed the times you truly cared,
Sincerely loved and prayed.
You will always wonder
As you enter heaven’s door
How much more glad you would have been
If only you’d done more.
For I recorded as God sees,
I don’t stop to even think
Because the truth is written
With God’s eternal ink.
When I heard the angel’s story
I fell down and wept and cried
For as yet I still was dreaming
I hadn’t really died.
And I said, O angel, tell the Lord
That soon as I awake
I’ll live my life for Jesus—
I’ll do all for His dear sake.
I’ll give in full surrender;
I’ll do all He wants me to;
I’ll turn my back on self and sin
And whatever isn’t true.
And though the way seems long and rough
I promise to endure.
I’m determined to pursue the things
That are holy, clean and pure.
And that’s what really matters
When my life on earth is gone
That I will stand before the Lord
And hear him say, well done.
For is it really worth it
As my life lies at the brink?
And I realize that God keeps books
With His eternal ink.
Should all my life be focused
On things that turn to dust?
From this point on I’ll serve the Lord;
I can, I will, I must.
I will NOT send blank pages
Up to God’s majestic throne
For where that record’s going now
Is my eternal home.
I’m giving all to Jesus
I now have seen the link
For I saw an angel write my life
With God’s eternal ink.