THE HIGH ROAD

Wheresoever  you may walk

In that far land ,-

Whatever company

May share with you the light –

If you can think of friends and things

You used to know ,-

You’re thinking tenderly of us

Tonight .

But if ,perchance ,it’s

Differently arranged –

If you may not for sadness

Recall the past ,-

We’ll keep on lonely

For awhile ,

Knowing we’ll walk the same high road

At last .

Dr   Billy  Graham  we  all   shall  miss you .

This Tiny Cross of Pain

Though prayers for healing

 seemed in vain ,

God helped me learn

 to live with pain ;

To use the very

 thing I dread

For closer walk

 with Him  instead ;

And how to lend

 a listening ear

To those who hurt\

 and shed a tear

of symapathy,

or press their hand –

worth more because

I understand .

 

Dear God ,if that’s

the only way

You’d have me serve

from day to day ,

please use this

tiny cross of pain

 for others

 and for Heavens’s gain !

Jan Bagwell

God of our life ,through all the circling years,

:

God of our life ,through all the circling years,

We trust in Thee ;

In all the past ,through all our hopes and fears,

Thy hand we see .

With each new day ,when morning lifts the veil ,

We own Thy mercies , Lord ,which never fail .

God of the past ,our times are in Thy hand ;

With us abide .

Lead us faith to hope’s true Promised Land ;

Be Thou our guide .

With Thee to bless ,the darkness shines as light ,

And faith’s fair vision changes into sight .

God of the coming years ,through paths unknown

We follow Thee ;

When we are strong ,Lord ,leave us not alone ;

Our Refuge be .

Be Thou for us in life our Daily Bread ,

Our heart’s true Home when all our years have sped .

Five Minutes After I Die Saved

Loved ones will watch for the latest breath ;

Tenderly care for the dust of death ;

Joyously speak of the victor’s wreath ,

Five minutes after I die .

Faces of saints who have gone before ;

Anthems of praise on that golden shore ;

Jesus exalted forevermore

Five minutes after I die .

Here, as a pilgrim and stranger I’ve ranged

Staff in my hand ,to the world estranged ;

Then ,pilgrim days past –oh what a change !

Five minutes after I die .

Perfect the conscience that once sin stirred ;

The blood has atoned ,and its voice is heard ;

Welcomed are all who believed God’s Word ,

Five minutes after I die .

Mated for aye to heaven’s glad throng ,

Long is eternited ,but not too long –

“Praise to the Lamb once slain ,”my glad song ,

five minutes after I die  .

Oh, what a prospect !The Word is true ;

Trusting the Saviour ,and born anew ,

Heaven I enter ,God’s glory to view ,

Five minutes after I die .

I am not flinging a fortune away :

I have believed in salvation’way :

God will fulfil what His Word doth say ,

Five minutes after I die .

Thanks be to Jesus for pardon free !

He paid my debt on Mt Calvary’s tree .

Paradise gates will enfold even me ,

Fives minutes after I die .

Oh marvelous grace that has rescued me !

Oh joyous moment when Jesus I see !

Oh happy day when like Him I’ll be .

Five minutes After I die Lost :

Five minutes After I die Lost :

Loved ones will weep o’er my silent face ;

Dear ones will clasp me in sad embrace ;

Shadows and darkness will fill the place  ,

Five minutes after I die .

Faces that sorrow I will not see ;

Voices that murmur will not reach me ;

But where ,oh,where will my spirit be ,

Five minutes after I die .

Here ,I have rested ,and roved , and ranged ;

Here , I have cherished ,and grown estranged .

There ,and then, it will all be changed ,

Five minutes after I die .

Naught to repair the good I lack ;

Fixed to  the goal of my chosen track;

No room to repent – no turning back ,

Five minutes after I die !

Now ,I can strife cnvictions stirred ;

Now ,I can silence the voice oft heard ;

Then ,the fulfillment of God’s sure Word,

Fives minutes  after I die .

Mated for aye with my chosen throng ;

Long is eternity ,oh so long !

Then woe is me if my soul is wrong ,

Five minutes after I die .

Oh ,what a fool ! Hard the word , but true ,

Passing the Saviour , with hell in view ,

Doing a thing I can ne’er undo ,

Fives minutes after I die .

Since I am flinging a fortune away ;

Since I am wasting salvation’s day ,

“just is my sentence,” my soul shall say ,

Fives minutes after I die .

THE LOST CHORD

 Seated one day at the organ ,

I was weary and ill at ease ,

And my fingers wandered idly

Over the noisy keys .

I do not know what I was playing ,

Or what I was dreaming then ;

But I struck one chord of music ,

Like the sound of a great Amen .

It flooded the crimson twilight

Like the close of an angel’s Psalm ,

And it lay on my fevered spirit

With a touch of infinite calm .

It quieted pain and sorrow ,

Like love overcoming strife ;

It seemed the harmonious echo

From our discordant life .

It linked all perplexed meanings

Into 0one perfect peace ,

And trembled always into silence ,

As if it were loth to cease .

I have sought ,but I seek it vainly ,

That one lost chord divine ,

Which came from the soul of the organ ,

And entered into mine .

It may be that Death’s bright angel

Will speak in that chord again ,-

It may be that only in Heaven

I shall hear that grand Amen .

Jan Bagwell

IN THE GARDEN OF THE LORD :

IN THE GARDEN OF THE LORD :

The word of God came unto to me ,

Sitting alone among the multitudes;

And my blind eyes were touched with light .

And there was laid upon my lips a flame of fire .

I laugh and shout ,for life is good ,

Though my feet are set in silent ways .

In merry mood I leave the crowd

To walk in my garden . Ever as I walk

I gather fruits and flowers in my hands .

And with joyful heart I bless the sun

That kindles all the place with radiant life .

I run with playful winds that blow the scent

Of rose and jessamine in eddying whirls .

At last I come where tall lilies grow ,

Lifting their faces like white saints to God .

While the lilies pray ,I kneel upon the ground ;

I have strayed into the holy temple of the Lord .

Jan