The voice of God is Calling

The Voice of God is calling

The voice of God is calling
Its summons unto men ;
As once He spake in Zion,
So now He speaks again ,
Whom shall I send to succor
My people in their need ?
Whom shall I send to shatter
The fetters which they bear ?

We heed , O Lord , Thy summons ,
And answer : Here are we !
Let us Thy servants be .
Our strength is dust and ashes
Our years a passing hour :
But Thou canst use our weakness
To magnify Thy power.

From ease and plenty save us ;
From pride of place absolve ;
Purge us of low desire ;
Lift us to high resolve ;
Take us ,and make us holy ;
Teach us Thy will and way .
Speak ,and behold !we answer ;
Command , and we obey !
Jan Bagwell

Look Beyond

Look beyond your sufferings
Look beyond your fear
Look beyond your adversity
And find the Lord so near
Look beyond the problem
Look beyond the now
Look beyond the turmoil|
And before Him humbly bow
For, inlooking beyond and bowing,
You will find your normal sight...
Takes on spiritual vision
In God's sustaining light.
Jan Bagwell

The Message of the Cross

The Message of the Cross
In the Cross of Christ I see ,
All the love of God to me ;
He it was who loved and gave ,
Guilty , sinful men to save .

In the Cross of Christ I know
Something of my saviour’s woe
I may surely read there in ,
All the sinfulness of sin .

In the Cross of Christ I learn
Righteous judgment to discern;
See the substitute for me
Cursed and smitten on the Tree .

There I see my Surety die
For a sinner such as I ,
There my broken heart can trace
All the riches of his grace .

At the Cross my soul finds peace ,
From its burden full release ;
There I may be reconciled ,
And confessed by God His child .

When The Mists Have Rolled Away

When The Mists Have Rolled Away

When the mists have rolled in splendor
From the beauty of the hills ,
And the sunlight falls in gladness
On the river and the rills ,
We recall our Father’s promise
In the rainbow of the spray;
We shall know each other better
When the mists have rolled away .

We shall come with joy and gladness ,
We shall gather round the throne ;
Face to face with those that love us ;
We shall know as we are known:
And the song of our redemption
Shall resound through endless day
When the shadows have departed ,
And the mists have rolled away .


Jan Bagwell
God Bless and keep you !

Priceless Treasures

Priceless Treasures
What could I give you that would truly please
In topsy-turvy times like these ?
I can’t give you freedom from vexations
Or even lessen your irritations
I can’t take away or even make less
The things that annoy , disturb , and distress
For stores don’t sell a single thing
To make the heart that’s troubled sing
They sell the new look suave and bland
But nothing that lends a helping hand ,
They sell rare gifts that are ultrasmart
But nothing to warm or comfort the heart
The joys of life that cheer and bless ,
The stores don’t sell , I must confess
But friends and prayers are priceless treasures
Beyond all monetary measures …
And so I say a special prayer
that God will keep you in his care …
and if I can ever help you , dear ,
in any way throughout the year ,
you’ve only to call , for as long as I live
such as I have , I freely give !
Jan Bagwell

The Tiny Acorn

The Tiny Acorn
“Little by little, an acorn said,
As it slowly sank in it mossy bed ;
“I am slowly growing every day ,
Hidden deep in the earth away.”
Little by little each day it grew ;
Little by little it sipped the dew ;
Downward it sent out a thread-like root;
Up in the air sprung a tiny shoot ,
Day after day and year after year ,
Little by little the leaves appear;
And the slender branches spread far and wide ,
Till the mighty oak is the forest’s pride .
Jan Bagwell
Can we grow as the acorn did ?
Can our Christian life grow as a mighty Oak?
I do hope so .

Footsteps of Angels

Footsteps of Angels

When the hours of Day are numbered,
And the voices of the Night
Wake the better soul, that slumbered,
To a holy, calm delight;

Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
And, like phantoms grim and tall,
Shadows from the fitful firelight
Dance upon the parlor wall;

Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
The beloved, the true-hearted,
Come to visit me once more;

He, the young and strong, who cherished
noble longings for the strife,
By the roadside fell and perished,
Weary with the march of life!

They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more!

And with them the Being Beauteous,
Who unto my youth was given,
More than all things else to love me,
And is now a saint in heaven.
With a slow and noiseless footstep
Comes that messenger divine,
Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays her gentle hand in mine.
And she sits and gazes at me
With those deep and tender eyes,
Like the stars, so still and saint-like,
Looking downward from the skies.
Uttered not, yet comprehended,
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer,
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air.
Oh, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,
If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and died!

Manys thanks to my friends and God Bless everyone !
Jan Bagwell