Sunday, December 05, 2010

John Newton has done it again...

John Newton, 1779, from Olney Hymns, vol. 1, hymn 126

1. I would, but cannot sing,
Guilt has untuned my voice;
The serpent sin's envenomed sting
Has poisoned all my joys.

2. I know the Lord is nigh,
And would, but cannot, pray;
For Satan meets me when I try,
And frights my soul away.

3. I would but can't repent
Though I endeavor oft;
This stony heart can ne'er relent
Till Jesus make it soft.

4. I would but cannot love,
Though wooed by love divine;
No arguments have pow'r to move
A soul so base as mine.

5. I would, but cannot rest
In God's most holy will;
I know what he appoints is best,
Yet murmur at it still!

6. Oh could I but believe!
Then all would easy be;
I would, but cannot, Lord relieve,
My help must come from thee!

7. But if indeed I would,
Though I can nothing do,
Yet the desire is something good,
For which my praise is due.

8. By nature prone to ill,
Till thine appointed hour
I was as destitute of will,
As now I am of pow'r

9. Wilt thou not crown, at length,
The work thou hast begun?
And with a will, afford me strength
In all thy ways to run.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Sunday, March 07, 2010

The Book of Knights - Yves Meynard


This is a marvelous well written book. It is a fantasy, but an easy and pretty straightforward read. For those looking for a book that looks deeper into life, courage and wisdom and for growing into maturity, this is it. Good for adventure and hard to put down.

The author has written several books in French, and I think has done a great job in English!

Saturday, January 02, 2010

A Time to Talk

This poem by Robert Frost cuts to the quick. I want so much to do this more often, but find it hard. So this is my prayer for today "Lord grant me a greater love for people than for getting things done."

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.