I love this…
Thursdays With Oswald—Am I Ready For God To Use Me?
September 7, 2017 — Craig T. Owens
This is a weekly series with things I’m reading and pondering from Oswald Chambers. You can read the original seed thought here, or type “Thursdays With Oswald” in the search box to read more entries.
Am I Ready For God To Use Me?
That life is not as idle ore,
But iron dug from central gloom,
And heated hot with burning fears,
And dipt in baths of hissing tears,
And batter’d with the shocks of doom
To shape and use. —Alfred Lord Tennyson
You have had the vision, but you are not there yet by any means. You have seen what God wants you to be but what you are not yet. Are you prepared to have this “iron dug from central gloom” battered into “shape and use”? “Battering” conveys the idea of a blacksmith putting good metal into right useful shape. The batterings of God come in commonplace days and commonplace ways, God is using the anvil to bring us into the shape of the vision. …
It is when we are going through the valley to prove whether we will be the “choice” ones, that most of us turn tail; we are not prepared for the blows that must come if we are going to be turned into the shape of the vision.”
He [God] never is in a hurry. We are in such a frantic hurry. We get down before God and pray, then we get up and say, “It is all done now,” and in the light of the glory of the vision we go forth to do the thing. But it is not real, and God has to take us into the valley and put us through fires and floods to batter us into shape, until we get into the condition in which He can trust us with the reality of His recognition of us. …
Let God put you on His wheel and whirl you as He likes, and as sure as God is God and you are you, you will turn out exactly in accordance with the vision He gave you. Don’t lose heart in the process.
From So Send I You
Has God given you a vision for your life? If so, don’t get discouraged at the time God is taking to ‘batter’ you into shape. Don’t lose heart, He knows what He is doing. When God says you are ready to go, the fulfillment of His vision is going to be so much grander than what you ever would have achieved on your own!
Poetry Saturday—A Good Confession
August 5, 2017 — Craig T. Owens
For years I have borne about hell in my breast;When I thought of my God it was nothing but gloom;
Day brought me no pleasure, night gave me no rest,
There was still the grim shadow of horrible doom.
It seemed as if nothing less likely could be
Than that light should break in on a dungeon so deep;
To create a new world were less hard than to free
The slave from his bondage, the soul from its sleep.
But the Word had gone forth, and said, Let there be light,
And it flashed through my soul like a sharp passing smart;
One look to my Savior, and all that dark night,
Like a dream scarce remembered, was gone from my heart.
I cried out for mercy, and fell on my knees,
And confessed, while my heart with keen sorrow was wrung;
’Twas the labor of minutes, and years of disease
Fell as fast from my soul as the words from my tongue. —Frederick William Faber
Poetry Saturday—Hymn XXXV
July 29, 2017 — Craig T. Owens
In Thy presence we are happy,In Thy presence we’re secure;
In Thy presence all afflictions
We can easily endure;
In Thy presence we can conquer,
We can suffer, we can die;
Wandering from Thee, we are feeble;
Let Thy love, Lord, keep us nigh. —Williams Pantycelyn
Poetry Saturday—Everlasting Love
July 22, 2017 — Craig T. Owens
Love, Thou bottomless abyss,My sins are swallowed up in Thee!
Covered is my unrighteousness,
Nor spot of guilt remains on me,
While Jesus’ blood, through earth and skies,
Mercy, free, boundless mercy, cries. …
Fixed on this ground I will remain,
Though my heart fail, and flesh decay;
This anchor shall my soul sustain,
When earth’s foundations melt away;
Mercy’s full power I then shall prove,
Loved with an everlasting love. —Johann Andreas Rothe
Poetry Saturday—Thine Forever
July 15, 2017 — Craig T. Owens
What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered Was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But Thine the deadly pain …
Oh, make me Thine forever;
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never
Outlive my love to Thee! —Bernard of Clairvaux
Poetry Saturday—The Blessed Morrow
July 8, 2017 — Craig T. Owens
’Midst the darkness, storm, and sorrow,One bright gleam I see;
Well I know the blessed morrow
Christ will come for me.
’Midst the light, and peace, and glory
Of the Father’s home,
Christ for me is watching, waiting,
Waiting till I come. …
Oh the blessed joy of meeting,
All the desert past!
Oh the wondrous words of greeting
He shall speak at last!
He and I together entering
Those fair courts above
He and I together sharing
All the Father’s love. —Gerhard Tersteegen
Poetry Saturday—Presumption
July 1, 2017 — Craig T. Owens
Whenever I am prone to doubt or wonder— I check myself, and say, “That mighty One
Who made to the solar system cannot blunder—
And for the best all things are being done.”
Who sent the stars on their eternal courses
Has fashioned this strange earth by some sure plan.
Bow low, bow low to those majestic forces,
Nor dare to doubt their wisdom, puny man.
You cannot put one little star in motion,
You cannot shape one single forest leaf,
Nor fling a mountain up, nor sink an ocean,
Presumptuous pigmy, large with unbelief.
You cannot bring one dawn of regal splendor,
Nor bid the day to shadowy twilight fall,
Nor send the pale moon fourth with radiance tender—
And dare you doubt the One who has done it all?
“So much is wrong, there is such pain—such sinning.”
Yet look again—behold how much is right!
And He who formed the world from its beginning
Knows how to guide it upward to the light.
Your task, O man, is not to carp and cavil
At God’s achievements, but with purpose strong
To cling to good, and turn away from evil.
That is the way to help the world along. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Poetry Saturday—A Man
June 17, 2017 — Craig T. Owens
A man doesn’t whine at his losses,A man doesn’t whimper and fret,
Or rail at the weight of his crosses
And ask life to rear him a pet.
A man doesn’t grudgingly labor
Or look upon toil as a blight;
A man doesn’t sneer at his neighbor
Or sneak from a cause that is right.
A man doesn’t sulk when another
Succeeds where his efforts have failed;
Doesn’t keep all his praise for the brother
Whose glory is publicly hailed;
And pass by the weak and the humble
As though they were not of his clay;
A man doesn’t ceaselessly grumble
When things are not going his way.
Succeeds where his efforts have failed;
Doesn’t keep all his praise for the brother
Whose glory is publicly hailed;
And pass by the weak and the humble
As though they were not of his clay;
A man doesn’t ceaselessly grumble
When things are not going his way.
A man looks on woman as tender
And gentle, and stands at her side
At all times to guard and defend her,
And never to scorn or deride.
A man looks on life as a mission.
To serve, just so far as he can;
A man holds his noblest ambition
On earth is to live as a man. —Edgar A. Guest
And gentle, and stands at her side
At all times to guard and defend her,
And never to scorn or deride.
A man looks on life as a mission.
To serve, just so far as he can;
A man holds his noblest ambition
On earth is to live as a man. —Edgar A. Guest
Poetry Saturday—The Hope Of His Coming
June 10, 2017 — Craig T. OwensThere is a balm for every pain,A medicine for all sorrow;
The eye turned backward to the Cross,
And forward to the morrow.
The morrow of the glory and the psalm,
When He shall come;
The morrow of the harping and the palm,
The welcome home.
Meantime in His beloved hands our ways,
And on His Heart the wandering heart at rest;
And comfort for the weary one who lays
His head upon His Breast. —Gerhard Tersteegen
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