Once again I'm reminded of the promise of spring - the hope of spring.
The hope of better things, better times and better seasons to come,
and especially of an eternal home
with no tears, no pain, no sickness,
no death,
no night.
But . . . right now I have work to do.
A life to live purposefully, as long as I live!
and especially of an eternal home
with no tears, no pain, no sickness,
no death,
no night.
But . . . right now I have work to do.
A life to live purposefully, as long as I live!
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| Out of the ashes and dust we WILL rise. If we allow it! I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes, so live not in your yesterdays, no just for tomorrow, but in the here and now. Keep moving and forget the post mortems; and remember, no one can get the jump on the future. |
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| The barren times are coming to an end! The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again. Sarah Ban Breathnach |
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| The old will become new! Because of His great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are NEW every morning. Lam 3:21-23 |
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| A new day is coming! Fling off thy sadness! Fair vernal flowers, laugh forth. Thomas Blackburn |
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| No winter lasts forever No Springs skips its turn Hal Borland |
She saw The Helper standing near
When grief and, care oppressed;
"A Great, Big God," Who wiped the tear,
And soothed the aching breast.
So, in the stress of sorrows piled,
The gloom was lifted when
She pointed up and sweetly smiled
"A Great, Big God; be brave, my child,
The birds will sing again."
And always some soft silver ray
Athwart the gloom would burst
To chase the heavy clouds away,
When things were at their worst.
Her "Great, Big God" would justify
The trembling trust of men;
For, when the cheerless night passed by,
The sun would wink his golden eye,
And birds would sing again.
When dark misfortune, hovering o'er,
Brought woes on every hand;
And care was camping by the door,
And drought was on the land;
When lingering hope in rags was clad,
Her faith shone brightest then -
"A Great, Big God; so cheer up, Dad.
Don't mope about and take it bad,
The birds will sing again."
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The birds will sing again! For, when the cheerless night passed by,
The sun would wink his golden eye,
And birds would sing again. John O'Brien |
She saw The Helper standing near
When grief and, care oppressed;
"A Great, Big God," Who wiped the tear,
And soothed the aching breast.
So, in the stress of sorrows piled,
The gloom was lifted when
She pointed up and sweetly smiled
"A Great, Big God; be brave, my child,
The birds will sing again."
And always some soft silver ray
Athwart the gloom would burst
To chase the heavy clouds away,
When things were at their worst.
Her "Great, Big God" would justify
The trembling trust of men;
For, when the cheerless night passed by,
The sun would wink his golden eye,
And birds would sing again.
When dark misfortune, hovering o'er,
Brought woes on every hand;
And care was camping by the door,
And drought was on the land;
When lingering hope in rags was clad,
Her faith shone brightest then -
"A Great, Big God; so cheer up, Dad.
Don't mope about and take it bad,
The birds will sing again."
by John O'Brien
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