Poetry Saturday—The 23 Psalme

The God of love my shepherd is,

             And He that doth me feed:
While He is mine, and I am His,
             What can I want or need?

He leads me to the tender grasse,
             Where I both feed and rest;
Then to the streams that gently passe:
             In both I have the best.

Or if I stray, He doth convert
             And bring my minde in frame:
And all this not for my desert,
             But for His holy name.

Yea, in death’s shadie black abode
             Well may I walk, not fear:
For Thou art with me; and Thy rod
             To guide, Thy staff to bear.

Nay, Thou dost make me sit and dine,
             Ev’n in my enemies sight:
My head with oyl, my cup with wine
             Runnes over day and night.

Surely Thy sweet and wondrous love
             Shall measure all my dayes;
And as it never shall remove,
             So neither shall my praise. —George Herbert

The Artisan Collection Bible (book review)

How do “Bible” and “artisan” belong in the same title? They’re more connected than you may have previously thought, and The Artisan Collection Bible is the perfect place to explore this connection. 

If you were to ask someone what occupation Jesus had while He was on earth, it would be a safe bet that most people would say He was a carpenter. Indeed, the Greek word tekton is translated as “carpenter” for both Joseph and Jesus (see Matthew 13:54-56 and Mark 6:2-3). However, the consensus among Greek scholars today is that the word tekton is more likely to mean an artisan than just merely a wood-working carpenter. 

That makes sense, doesn’t it? After all, you would expect boundless creativity from the Creator. The One who fashioned our beautiful universe would certainly still be interested in expressing Himself in creative and beautiful ways. 

For myself, reading the Bible sparks in me a desire to be creative with words, and images, and colors, and designs. This is exactly what The Artisan Collection Bible gives you the space to do. And I literally mean “space.” 

One of the most attractive features to me about this Bible is the extra-wide margins along every single page. As you read God’s Word and the beauty of the Creator is illuminated in your heart and mind, you have readily available space to express your own creativity as worship to the Creator. Try crafting a poem, or turning the passage into a personal prayer, or drawing a picture that captures the vibrancy of God’s love letter written to you. The design of this Bible helps you to do more than just read the Word of God, it invites you to interact with the God of the Word. 

The Artisan Collection Bible would make an excellent gift for your creative friend or loved one. 

I am a Zondervan book reviewer and a member of the Bible Gateway Blogger Grid. As a book reviewer I received a free copy of this book from the book publisher. I am not compensated for my review. Although I may have received the book free of charge, I am under no obligation to write a favorable review. I am free to express my honest opinion about the book’s content. If I say it’s a good book, it’s because I think it’s a good book! 

Poetry Saturday—O God Of Bethel

O God of Bethel, by whose hand
Thy people still are fed,
who through this weary pilgrimage
hast all our fathers led; 

Our vows, our prayers, we now present
before Thy throne of grace;
God of our fathers, be the God
of their succeeding race.

Through each perplexing path of life
our wandering footsteps guide;
give us each day our daily bread,
and raiment fit provide. 

O spread Thy covering wings around
till all our wanderings cease,
and at our Father’s loved abode
our souls arrive in peace. —Philip Doddridge

Poetry Saturday—On Another’s Sorrow

Can I see another’s woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another’s grief,
And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow’s share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow filled?

Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird’s grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear—

And not sit beside the next,
Pouring pity in their breast,
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant’s tear?

And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
Oh no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
He doth give His joy to all:
He becomes an infant small,
He becomes a man of woe,
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by:
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not near.

Oh He gives to us His joy,
That our grief He may destroy:
Till our grief is fled an gone
He doth sit by us and moan. —William Blake

Poetry Saturday—One God

One God! one Majesty! 
There is no God but Thee! 
Unbounded, unextended Unity! 

Awful in unity,
O God! we worship Thee,
More simply one, because supremely Three!

Dread, unbeginning One! 
Single, yet not alone, 
Creation hath not set Thee on a higher throne. 

Unfathomable Sea!
All life is out of Thee,
And Thy life is Thy blissful Unity.

All things that from Thee run, 
All works that Thou hast done, 
Thou didst in honor of Thy being One. 

And by Thy being One, 
Ever by that alone, 
Couldst Thou do, and doest, what Thou hast done. 

We from Thy oneness come, 
Beyond it cannot roam, 
And in Thy oneness find our one eternal home. 

Blest be Thy Unity! 
All joys are one to me— 
The joy that there can be no other God than Thee! —Frederick Faber

Poetry Saturday—Lord Of All Being

Lord of all being, throned afar,
Thy glory flames from sun and star;
Center and soul of every sphere,
Yet to each loving heart how near!

Sun of our life, Thy quickening ray,
Sheds on our path the glow of day;
Star of our hope, Thy softened light
Cheers the long watches of the night.

Our midnight is Thy smile withdrawn;
Our noontide is Thy gracious dawn;
Our rainbow arch, Thy mercy’s sign;
All, save the clouds of sin, are Thine.

Lord of all life, below, above,
Whose light is truth, whose warmth is love,
Before Thy ever blazing throne
We ask no luster of our own.

Grant us Thy truth to make us free,
And kindling hearts that burn for Thee,
Till all Thy living altars claim
One holy light, one heavenly flame. —Oliver Wendell Holmes

Poetry Saturday—Of Hidden Uses

All things being are essential to the vast ubiquity of God;
Neither is there one thing overmuch, nor freed from honorable servitude.
Were there not a need be of wisdom, nothing would be as it is;
For essence without necessity argueth a moral weakness.
We look through a glass darkly, we catch but glimpses of truth;
But, doubtless, the sailing of a cloud hath Providence to its pilot,
Doubtless, the root of an oak is gnarled for a special purpose,
The foreknown station of a rush is as fixed as the station of a king,
And chaff from the hand of a winnower, steered as the stars in their courses.
Man liveth only in himself, but the Lord liveth in all things;
And His pervading unity quickeneth the whole creation.
Man doeth one thing at once, nor can he think two thoughts together;
But God compasseth all things, mantling the globe like air;
And we render homage to His wisdom, seeing use in all His creatures,
For, perchance, the universe would die, were not all things as they are. —Martin Fraquhar Tupper
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