I AM LEARNING, LORD

            

Cast thy burden upon the LORD, and he shall sustain thee: 

he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved. 

Psalm 55:22

          I AM LEARNING, LORD

My life has taken many falls and tumbles ‘long the way.

The many trials have left me in a sure state of dismay,

For with each trial, I tried alone to tend, and soothe, and mend,

Instead of giving them to God – and on Him just depend…

But, I am learning, Lord.

It seems that I was determined to carry all the load;

I longed for smoother pathways, yet I walked a rocky road.

Little did I understand – God waited patiently

To pave a new beginning with a better life for me…

But, I am learning, Lord.

It took a real disaster to bring me to my knees;

To finally call upon the Lord and say, “God help me, please.”

He came, with no delaying, with strong arms that could hold

The weight of all my burdens and He gladly took the load.

And I am learning, Lord.

What a needless cross I carried, all because I could not see –

What a friend I have in Jesus, and the love He has for me.

Peace I find when troubles hover, though the outcome is unknown,

For if yet the road is rocky, I won’t walk it all alone…

For I am learning, Lord.

Jesus has promised to carry our burdens, 

but so often we try to carry them ourselves 

or help him out.  

He tells us to cast them all on Him, 

because He cares!

Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you. 

1 Peter 5:7

I would love for you to leave me a comment.  

IN THE HANDS OF THE POTTER

The potter makes vessels of clay by spinning and molding it. 

As the potter molds the clay, he pulls, presses, wets, stretches,

 and spins it to make it a useful vessel. 

If there are stones, sticks, and foreign material in the clay,

 he must remove them or the vessel will be marred. 

If he is unable to remove the foreign objects,

he is forced to discard the piece of clay

and start over with some clay that he can work with.

Sometimes when the potter is molding the clay,

 it doesn’t yield to his hands and becomes marred. 

Then he has to start over again. 

After he crushes the clay into a lump and remolds it,

then it may become the vessel that he intended it to be. 

The whole key to becoming a finished product of value

 is in the clay being moldable. 

The potter does the work. 

The clay just yields.

God is also as a potter in our lives and we are the clay.

 How like the clay we are. 

Some of us are unwilling to let go of the trash, stones, etc.

in our lives so that the Lord can mold us into something useful. 

If we refuse, He cannot use us. 

But, if we are willing to let Him mold us,

even though it involves pressure, spinning, wetting, pulling, etc.

The process may be slow and painful,

but we can become  vessels of blessing and honor

by yielding to His hands.

 The word which came to Jeremiah from the LORD, saying, 

 Arise, and go down to the potter's house, 

and there I will cause thee to hear my words. 

Then I went down to the potter's house, 

and, behold, he wrought a work on the wheels. 

And the vessel that he made of clay was marred 

in the hand of the potter: so he made it again another vessel, 

as seemed good to the potter to make it. 

Jeremiah 18:1-4 

HAPPY 240th BIRTHDAY AMERICA

HAPPY 240th BIRTHDAY AMERICA

America (My Country, 'Tis of Thee)

by Rev. Samuel F. Smith - 1832

My country, 'tis of Thee,

Sweet Land of Liberty

Of thee I sing;

Land where my fathers died,

Land of the pilgrims' pride,

From every mountain side

Let Freedom ring.

My native country, thee,

Land of the noble free,

Thy name I love;

I love thy rocks and rills,

Thy woods and templed hills,

My heart with rapture thrills

Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,

And ring from all the trees

Sweet Freedom's song;

Let mortal tongues awake;

Let all that breathe partake;

Let rocks their silence break,

The sound prolong.

Our fathers' God to Thee,

Author of Liberty,

To thee we sing,

Long may our land be bright

With Freedom's holy light,

Protect us by thy might

Great God, our King.

Our glorious Land to-day,

'Neath Education's sway,

Soars upward still.

Its hills of learning fair,

Whose bounties all may share,

Behold them everywhere

On vale and hill!

Thy safeguard, Liberty,

The school shall ever be,

Our Nation's pride!

No tyrant hand shall smite,

While with encircling might

All here are taught the Right

With Truth allied.

Beneath Heaven's gracious will

The stars of progress still

Our course do sway;

In unity sublime

To broader heights we climb,

Triumphant over Time,

God speeds our way!

Grand birthright of our sires,

Our altars and our fires

Keep we still pure!

Our starry flag unfurled,

The hope of all the world,

In peace and light impearled,

God hold secure!

Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD

Psalm 33:12

A CHILD OF THE KING

I’M A CHILD OF THE KING

I am a very wealthy person.

My father has all that I could ever need or want

and He wrote me a letter and

told me that if I ever need anything

to just ask Him and He will provide it for me

He did say that this offer was only

available so long as I am an obedient child.

I was born into the family and He has

always been there for me

helping me to grow into a child that

He would be proud of.

He is the light of my life and

I would never ask anything of Him

that would not please Him or that

would be a waste of money,

because even though He is rich,

He wants His money used wisely.

I believe what He said and I will give Him

my requests and let Him sort out

what He thinks I need.

After all, He is building me a mansion

for when I move home and

I don’t want to interfere with that.

A Child of the King

Harriet E. Buell, 1877

My Father is rich in houses and lands,
He holdeth the wealth of the world in His hands!
Of rubies and diamonds, of silver and gold,
His coffers are full, He has riches untold.

Refrain:
I’m a child of the King,
A child of the King:
With Jesus my Savior,
I’m a child of the King.

My Father’s own Son, the Savior of men,
Once wandered on earth as the poorest of them;
But now He is pleading our pardon on high,
That we may be His, when He comes by and by.

I once was an outcast stranger on earth,
A sinner by choice, an alien by birth,
But I’ve been adopted, my name’s written down,
An heir to a mansion, a robe and a crown.

A tent or a cottage, why should I care?
They’re building a palace for me over there;
Though exiled from home, yet still may I sing:
All glory to God, I’m a child of the King.



For every beast of the forest is mine, 
and the cattle upon a thousand hills. 
Psalm 50:10



  O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! 
how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out! 
Romans 11:33




Sharing a few of my new cards:

  

    

Father's Day

  The just man walketh in his integrity: 

his children are blessed after him. 

Proverbs 20:7