BLUE FLOWER

I bumped into a stranger as he passed by.
"Oh, ...excuse me, please" was my reply.
He said, "Please excuse me too;
I wasn't even watching for you."
Oh, we were polite -- this stranger and I.
We went on our way and we said our good-bye.
But at home a different story is told,
How we treat our loved ones, young and old.

Later that day, cooking the evening meal,
My daughter stood beside me very still.
When I turned, I nearly knocked her down.
"Move out of the way!" I said with a frown.
She walked away, her little heart broken.
I didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken.

Later that night wide awake in my bed,
God's still, small voice came to me and said,
"While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy
you use, But the children you love, you seem to abuse!

Look upon the kitchen floor,
You'll find some flowers there by the door.
Those are the flowers she brought for you,
She picked them herself -- pink, yellow and blue.
She stood quietly not to spoil the surprise,
And you never saw the tears in her eyes."

By this time, I felt very small
And now my tears began to fall.
I quietly went and knelt by her bed;
"Wake up, sweetheart," I whispered and said.

"Are these the flowers you picked for me?"
She smiled, "I found 'em, out by the tree.
I picked 'em because they're pretty like you.
I knew that you'd like them -- especially the blue."

I said, "Daughter, I'm sorry how I acted to you today;
I shouldn't have yelled at you that way."

She hugged me and said "Mommy, that's okay.
You know I love you anyway."
I said, Daughter, I love you too!
And I do like the flowers -- especially the blue."

UNKNOWN

The Way to God

If my days were untroubled
and my heart always light
Would I seek that fair land
where there is no night;
If I never grew weary
with the weight of my load
Would I search for God's Peace
at the end of the road;
If I never knew sickness
and never felt pain
Would I reach for a hand
to help and sustain;
If I walked not with sorrow
and lived without loss
Would my soul seek sweet solace
at the foot of the cross;
If all I desired was mine
day by day
Would I kneel before God
and earnestly pray;
If God sent no "Winter"
to freeze me with fear
Would I yearn for the warmth
of "Spring" every year;
I ask myself this
and the answer is plain-
If my life were all pleasure
and I never knew pain
I'd seek God less often
and need Him much less,
For God's sought more often
in times of distress,
And no one knows God
or sees Him as plain
As those who have met Him
on "The Pathway of Pain".

HELEN STEINER RICE

JUDGE GENTLY

Pray don't find fault with the man who limps
or stumbles along the road,
unless you have worn the shoes he wears
or struggled beneath his load.
There may be tacks in his shoes that hurt,
thought hidden away from view,
or the burden he bears, placed on your back
might cause you to stumble too.
Don't sneer at the man who's down today
unless you have felt the blow
that cause his fall or felt the shame
that only the fallen know.
You may be strong, but still the blows
that were his if dealt to you,
in the selfsame way, at the selfsame time,
might cause you to stagger too.
Don't be too harsh with the man who sins
or pelt him with word or stone,
unless you are sure, yea, doubly sure,
that you have no sins of your own-
for you know perhaps if the tempter's voice
should whisper as softly to you
as it did to him when he went astray,
it might cause you to stumble too.

Unknown

STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

Silky white clouds are all around
The blue of the sky that do surround
I step ever closer to reach my goal
No matter how steep or painfully slow
I look to the One who's face I see
And to His promise, He'll come back for me
As I travel this long, lengthy path
I look around for God's holy wrath
It gets closer and closer to view
I'm now going down, my worries grew
Then I looked up to His glorious face
On the wings of God's most spacious grace
And my journey has now, once again
Found those precious steps that do ascend
So many people from all parts of my life
From my mother to my brother and even my wife
Are walking these steps just hence to me
As I look at them, I fail to see
I'm now going down, away from my goal
It seems God's grace has ceased to flow
As these steps were dropping so deep
My descent, I knew, would soon be complete
Until I looked up, to see Him afar
He sent me a bright, glistening star
To once again light my very way
And turn the night into a brilliant day
But with this path, so long and so steep
I can't go any faster, even when I leap
So I'm resigned to move steady and slow
Believing each day His face will bestow
A means for direction that I must take
Living my life, simply, for Christ's sake
I mustn't worry about what's all around
For those are only things, here on the ground
My eyes must be focused up there
For my path is laid, when that's where I stare

James Corwin

THE NARROW WAY

Believe not those who say
The upward path is smooth,
Lest thou shouldst stumble in the way,
And faint before the truth.

It is the only road
Unto the realms of joy;
But he who seeks that blest abode
Must all his powers employ.

Bright hopes and pure delights
Upon his course may beam,
And there, amid the sternest heights,
The sweetest flowerets gleam.

On all her breezes borne,
Earth yields no scents like those;
But he that dares not grasp the thorn
Should never crave the rose.

Arm - arm thee for the fight!
Cast useless loads away;
Watch through the darkest hours of night,
Toil through the hottest day.

Crush pride into the dust,
Or thou must needs be slack;
And trample down rebellious lust,
Or it will hold thee back.

Seek not thy honor here;
Waive pleasure and renown;
The world's dread scoff undaunted bear,
And face its deadliest frown.

To labor and to love,
To pardon and endure,
To lift thy heart to God above,
And keep thy conscience pure;

Be this thy constant aim,
Thy hope, thy chief delight;
What matter who should whisper blame,
Or who should scorn or slight?

What matter, if thy God approve,
And if, within thy breast,
Thou feel the comfort of His love,
The earnest of His rest?

ANNE BRONTE

PRAYERS ARE THE STAIRS

Prayers are the stairs
We must climb every day,
If we would reach God
There is no other way,
For we learn to know God
When we meet him in prayer
And ask him to lighten
Our burden of care--
So start in the morning
And, though the way's steep,
Climb ever upward
'Til your eyes close in sleep--
For prayers are the stairs
That lead to the Lord,
And to meet Him in prayer
Is the climber's reward.


Helen Steiner Rice