From out the herd I lift my head to sniff the air outside our shed; All around me folk who stray about, missing the joy of which angels shout.
Creator hold all my hopes and dreams, use all my gifts, Your holy schemes; Together we, bring justice clear, remove from us even death our fear.
Oh Word Made Flesh lead this day me on, keep from me sins Satan may prey on; Guide me, stay close, Your touch to feel, our mission clear fill my heart with zeal.
Spirit bring me quest that my day may find, Your wisdom known, a plan design. Feed me good food, build my body strong, ‘mongst Your own people I belong.
Holy One, Most Mighty Lord of All, Your grace and mercy on us fall, Show us the pathway, we need to know, Your love for all, our world to show.
What a bewildered by-product of the wool mass production line. While grazing in green pastures he had been gathered up, dragged into a shed and sheered of his wool coat, his ears pierced with ID tags, then brusquely shoved out into a corral with his other shaken brethren to recover. He could be any one of us, suddenly take-up by the scurf of the neck by one of life's unexpected calamities and put through a series of procedures. He is the only one looking up, from which cometh his help. He knows only that something terrible has happened, hopes for comfort and healing. Soon the shepherd will lead him back to green pastures and clear waters, and he can gather strength and give thanks that Someone cares for him. Let us all be thankful for the Good Shepherd who always looks after us. Clarene Aitken 18.3.14
Curiosity
ReplyDelete[Morning Hymn]
From out the herd I lift my head to sniff the air outside our shed;
All around me folk who stray about, missing the joy of which angels shout.
Creator hold all my hopes and dreams, use all my gifts, Your holy schemes;
Together we, bring justice clear, remove from us even death our fear.
Oh Word Made Flesh lead this day me on, keep from me sins Satan may prey on;
Guide me, stay close, Your touch to feel, our mission clear fill my heart with zeal.
Spirit bring me quest that my day may find, Your wisdom known, a plan design.
Feed me good food, build my body strong, ‘mongst Your own people I belong.
Holy One, Most Mighty Lord of All, Your grace and mercy on us fall,
Show us the pathway, we need to know, Your love for all, our world to show.
The Rev. Ronald Allen Melver, M.Div.
16.3.14
Sunday, March 16, 2014
ReplyDeleteHER MASTER'S VOICE
Oh, Yesss!
Please, Yes!
Lord, Let it be me
PLEASE, let me be the one
who hears her Master's Voice
from amongst the crowd
then, has the courage
to follow Him
for His sake
Sara
Lost Sheep
ReplyDeleteWhat a bewildered by-product of the wool mass production line. While grazing in green pastures
he had been gathered up, dragged into a shed and sheered of his wool coat, his ears pierced with ID
tags, then brusquely shoved out into a corral with his other shaken brethren to recover.
He could be any one of us, suddenly take-up by the scurf of the neck by one of life's unexpected
calamities and put through a series of procedures. He is the only one looking up, from which cometh
his help. He knows only that something terrible has happened, hopes for comfort and healing. Soon the shepherd will lead him back to green pastures and clear waters, and he can gather
strength and give thanks that Someone cares for him.
Let us all be thankful for the Good Shepherd who always looks after us.
Clarene Aitken
18.3.14