Miscellany

At right is my nightstand, piles of books predominating. It seems to be one of the places such piles accumulate...

• If you have followed any of the recent declarations by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, you may enjoy this satirical piece in the Telegraph. it made me smile, and also told me I was not alone in scratching my head at this man...

• In the category of favorite Spurgeon quotes, I ran across this one, with thanks to MA:

"I have heard of some good old woman in a cottage, who had nothing but a piece of bread and a little water. Lifting up her hands, she said as a blessing, "What! All this, and Christ too?"

May I live ever thankful...

• I was encouraged by one of my accountability partners from Women's Fellowship (thanks, Jacque!) to remember that joy is a command, and a fruit of the Spirit. In the category of preaching the gospel to ones self every day, here are some excellent reminders about joy, courtesy of John Piper's ministry.

• Our hymn of the month in evening fellowship time on Sunday evenings has beautiful words from the pen of Francis Scott Key, author of the lyrics to the Star Spangled Banner.
  

Lord with Glowing Heart I'd Praise Thee
Lord, with glowing heart I’d praise Thee,
For the bliss Thy love bestows,
For the pardoning grace that saves me,
And the peace that from it flows:
Help, O God, my weak endeavor;
This dull soul to rapture raise:
Thou must light the flame, or never
Can my love be warmed to praise.

Praise, my soul, the God that sought thee,
Wretched wanderer, far astray;
Found thee lost, and kindly brought thee
From the paths of death away;
Praise, with love’s devoutest feeling,
Him Who saw thy guilt-born fear,
And the light of hope revealing,
Bade the blood-stained cross appear.

Praise thy Savior God that drew thee
To that cross, new life to give,
Held a blood sealed pardon to thee,
Bade thee look to Him and live.
Praise the grace whose threats alarmed thee,
Roused thee from thy fatal ease;
Praise the grace whose promise warmed thee,
Praise the grace that whispered peace.

Lord, this bosom’s ardent feeling
Vainly would my lips express.
Low before Thy footstool kneeling,
Deign Thy suppliant’s prayer to bless:
Let Thy grace, my soul’s chief treasure,
Love’s pure flame within me raise;
And, since words can never measure,
Let my life show forth Thy praise.

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