God Gave Some as Teachers

Thank God for those who teach God’s word
With courage, skill and patient love—
Who don’t abuse the truth they’ve heard,
But take their orders from above. 

Thank God for those whose lives display
Christ’s saving work at any length
To build His church on earth today—
To save by His almighty strength.

Then give such teachers honor due
To those who faithfully just serve
With motives that are clean and true.
Yes, give the honor they deserve.

Rewards for them, rewards for you,
Are never seen on earth today.
Those come when Jesus makes things new
And all His servants get their pay.

And he gave...teachers to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ...  (Ephesians 4:11-12 ESV)

My Mother's Beauty

        My mother, Hilda M. Swindle, in 1964


My mother's beauty wasn't gold and paint
Nor sexy moves and winks.
Her beauty was a simpler, cleaner, rural sort
From clean living
   and clean thinking
      and self-control
         and duty done by day, by night.

She loved the Lord's creation--
   The beauty of a robin or an oriole,
   But also of a chicken or a toad.

She didn't need much luxury.
The place she loved, where she grew up,
Was plain indeed--
A wood-fired cookstove.
An outdoor toilet.
No telephone.
But it meant home for her
And for her children,
Though we didn't know it at the time.

She raised her boys to read and think.
She fed our hunger, nursed our sickness,
And cleaned us up and brought us all to church.

My mother died in May
Now fourteen years ago.
No big foundation bears her name.
No streets, no schools, no obelisks.
Those she wouldn't need.
Her monument is duty done
And children loved
And just one man
And half a gravestone.

I miss her this May day.


Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land the LORD your God is giving you. (Exodus 20:12 ESV)


For a related post about family, click here.

I Chose God; He Chose Me

     Lye soap at Wunderlich Farm. Photo credit: Gail Swindle

By your grace, I've chosen you.
Now confirm it. make me new--
Dead to all the devil's lies,
By your Spirit, clean and wise.
Keep me in the tempting hour
By your Holy Spirit's power.
As you wash and fresh and fill,
Conquer me to do your will.
Then a glory not my own
Will flow from and to your throne
As my life in each small thing
Glorifies my matchless king.
Speak your truth from north to south,
East to west through my saved mouth.
All I am, Lord, comes from you.
Sanctify me through and through.


Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,
    whose sin is covered.
Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity,
    and in whose spirit there is no deceit.
(Psalm 32:1-2 ESV)

The Sluggard

The sluggard “does not commit himself to a refusal, but deceives himself by the smallness of his surrenders. So, by inches and minutes, his opportunity slips away.” 
--Derek Kidner, as quoted in Bible study material from Capitol Hill Baptist Church of Washington, DC.

     Lazy? Me? Not at all.
     Wait a bit, and you'll see.

     Yes, I'll work like a bee.
     I'll get busy this fall.

     Lazy? Me? Lying thing!
     Just you wait, and you'll see.
     I will work like a bee.
     I'll get busy next spring.
    

     The soul of the sluggard craves and gets nothing,
         while the soul of the diligent is richly supplied.
                                 (Proverbs 13:14 ESV)

Battered Bolt

This bolt must have a tale of woe--
Machinery that fell apart.
And how soon did the owner know
That things weren't good like at the start?

And did an injury ensue?
And did he lose a precious load?
We're only guessing (me and you)
Just why this bolt was in the road.

Some people, too, are battered: Bent
And rusty from the lives they've led.
And we can wonder where they went went
Before they looked so nearly dead.

They once seemed fresh and clean and bright...
Young children singing, playing games,
But then came terrors in the night
Or dragon jaws, or smoke and flames.

The bolt I'll throw away as trash,
But people are a different thing.
The one who seems all soot and ash
May still wake up and dance and sing.

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. (Romans 1:16 ESV)

The Party's Past

   The party's past.
   Balloons now gone.
   The cake is stale,
   And I am tired.
   So, would you like
   Another piece?

Praise for the Creator

Holy God,
    Three in person,
    One in name and strength and will,
I can never praise your name enough.
You have made the worlds-stars unfurled.
You've designed the mighty mountains
And the surging seas
And the dainty flowers
And the fuzzy bees.
You have made mankind,
And you've made me,
And all the good I see or smell
Or taste or touch
Or hear.
It comes from you,
Belongs to you,
Returns to you.
Accept my feeble praise
For your magnificent ways.


When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,

the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,

what is man that you are mindful of him,

and the son of man that you care for him? (Psalm 8:3-4, ESV)

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