The Breaking Heart

The Breaking Heart
When your lonely is breaking
beneath a heavy load of care ,
And your tears have been exhausted
But the pain still lingers there –
Then take it to the mender ,
Commit it all to him –
And let bind the broken chords ,
And give new joy within .
For underneath the burden sore ,
Your spirit cries aloud,
And Jesus’ ear is tuned to hear
Your cry above the crowd .
Why hold it then , within your heart ,
To eat your soul away ,
When Jesus beckons you come
And hide in Him today ?
He wants to heal your broken heart,
He died from one you know-
And in His dying , met your need ,
And conquered every foe .
Jan Bagwell
God Bless

A Crushed Rose

A Crushed Rose
O, beautiful rose , please tell me ,
For I would like to know ,
Why I must crush your petals
That the sweet perfume may flow ,
O , life that is clothed in beauty
Perhaps like that wonderful rose
You will need to be crushed by suffering
If the radiance of your life must glow
A life that is crushed by sorrow
Can feel for another’s grief ,
And send out that fragrance of love
That will bring some heart relief ,
O , do not repine at your testing
When called to pass under the rod ;
For your life the sweeter will be
If blessed by the hand of God
Then let us rejoice when He sendeth
Some sorrow or hardship that tries
And be glad to be crushed as a rose leaf
That a sweeter perfume may arise.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless you !!

Sometimes We'll Understand

Sometimes We’ll Understand
Not now , but in the coming years ,
It may be in the Better Land ,
We’ll read the meaning of our tears ,
And there , sometimes , we’ll understand .

We’ll catch the broken threads again,
And finish what we here began ;
Heav’n will the mysteries explain ,
And then , ah then , we’ll understand .

We’ll know why clouds instead of sun
Were over many a cherished plan ;
Why song has ceased ,when scarce begun ;
Tis there ,sometime , we’ll understand.
God know the way , He holds the key ,
He guides us with unerring hand ;
Sometimes with tearless eyes we’ll see ;
Yes , there ,up there , we’ll understand .

Then trust in God through all thy days ;
Fear not , for he doth hold thy hand ;
Through dark the way , still sing and praise ;
Sometimes ,sometimes ,we’ll understand .
Jan Bagwell
God bless and keep you !!

The Old Man's Motto

The Old man’s motto
“Give me a motto ,” said a youth
To one whom years had rendered wise ;
“Some pleasant thought , or weighty truth ,
That briefest syllables comprise ;
Some word of warning or of cheer
To grave upon my signet here .
“And, reverend father ,”said the boy ,
“Since life ,they say ,is ever made
A mingled web of grief and joy ;
Since cares may come and pleasures fade ,-
Pray ,let the motto have a range
Of meaning matching every change .”

“Sooth !”said the man ,’ I think you ask
A labor something over-nice ,
That well a finer brain might task .
What think you ,lad , of this device
[Older than I ,though I am gray ].
‘It simple ,’This will pass away .’

When wafted on by fortune’s breeze ,
In endless peace thou seem’st to glide ,
Prepare betimes for rougher seas ,
And chech the boast of foolish pride ;
Though smiling joy thine today ,
Remember ,’This will pass .’

When all the sky is draped in black .
And ,beaten by tempestuous gales ,
Thy shuddering ship seems all a- wrack ,
Then trim again thy tattered sails ;
To grim despair be not a prey ;
I think thee , ‘ This will pass away .’

Thus ,O my son ,be not o’ver-proud ,
Nor yet cast down ; judge thou aright ;
When skies are clear , expect the cloud ;
In darkness wait the coming light ;
Whatever be thy fate today ,
Remember ,’ This will pass away.’”
Jan bagwell
This is something I though you would like . I do not know who wrote it . God Bless and hope you receive something from this .

When Mother Prayed

When Mother Prayed
I think that I shall never see ,
This side of God’s eternity ,
A scene as lovely as the one
Which met my gaze when day was done .
In childhood years of long ago ;
My mother sings, ‘tis sweet and low ,
Her face with love is all aglow ,she turns the pages of God’s Word ,
Her tender heart is deeply stirred.
She kneels ,she prays ,Oh ,what a prayer!
I listen, lingering on the stair –
“God bless my boy “-I hear my name ,
and there ,within my heart , a flame
Begins to burn –‘tis burning yet .
That hour I never shall forget !
My Mother dear ,at even kneels ,
And prays for me . This morn there steals
A ray of warmth into my heart ,
And now , like her , from cares apart ,
I pray . Her prayers still follow me –
A torch ,and by its gleam I see
My home across the crystal sea .
Jan Bagwell
God Bless all Our Mother’s

The Mothers of Men

THE MOTHERS OF MEN
The bravest battle that ever was fought ;
Shall I tell you where and when ?
On the maps of the world you will find it not,
“ Twas fought by the mothers of men.

Nay ,not with cannon or battle shot ,
With sword or braver pen ,
Nay , not with eloquent word or thought ,
From mouths of wonderful men;

But deep in a woman’s walled-up heart,
Of woman that would not yield ,
But patiently, silently bore her part,-
Lo , there is that battlefield .

No marshaling troops, no bivouac song ;
No banner to gleam and wave;
But , O those battles , they last so long ,
From babyhood to the grave !

Yet faithful still as bridge of stars ,
She fights in her walled-up town
Fights on and on in the endless wars ,
Then silent , unseen , goes down .
Jan Bagwell
God Bless you !!

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 Bagwell