Taken Aside by Jesus

The following is from Streams in the Desert:

Taken aside by Jesus
To feel the touch of His hand;
To rest for a while in the shadow
Of the Rock in a weary land.

Taken aside by Jesus,
In the loneliness dark and drear,
Where no other comfort may reach me,
Thank His voice to my heart so dear.

Taken aside by Jesus,
To be quite alone with Him,
To hear His wonderful tones of love
‘Mid the silence and shadows dim.

Take aside by Jesus,
Shall I shrink from the desert place;
When I hear as I never heard before
And see Him ‘face to face’?

Be Strong!

Be Strong!
We are not here to play, to dream, to drift;
We have hard work to do, and loads to lift.
Shun not the struggle; face it.
‘Tis God’s gift.

Be strong!
Say not th edays are evil–Who’s to blame?
And fold the hands and acquiesce–O shame!
Stand up, speak out, and bravely,
In God’s name.

Be strong!
It matters not how deep entrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day how long,
Faint not, fight on!
Tomorrow comes the song.

My Pilot Knows

Ken and I leave for Almaty, Kazakhstan in about two weeks so we are treasuring every minute we have on our farm sans the small airplanes that fly overhead.  We live about two miles from a small airport so we get the crop sprayers and occasional helicopters that fly over our farmyard.  The one in the photo I caught while biking along our gravel roads.

Our “fragile bark” will be crossing the Atlantic soon by jet and Ken already got our seat assignments.  Much easier passage than what Thomas Curtis Clark expresses in the following poem from Streams in the Desert:

 

 

As moves my fragile bark across the storm-swept sea,
Great waves beat o’er her side, as north wind blows;
Deep in the darkness hid lie threat’ning rocks and shoals;
But all of these, and more, my Pilot knows.

Sometimes when dark the night, and every light gone out,
I wonder to what port my frail ship goes;
Stil though the night be long, and restless all my hours,
My distant goal, I’m sure, my Pilot knows.

“If You Could See Beyond…” a July Sunset

I apologize to my faithful readers that I’ve dropped off on my blogging lately since I’m on vacation back in the U.S. before we return to Kazakhstan in mid-August to continue teaching at a western style university in Almaty, the former capital. Great to be back with family and friends again in Minnesota after we went to Houston, TX area for a wedding and then to Phoenix, AZ area to visit with Ken’s children and my relatives.  I took this photo last night as I watched the sun set on a peaceful July evening.

The following is a poem from Streams in the Desert which applies to our anticipated return to Central Asia.  As is often quoted by older people, “getting older ain’t for sissies” the same is true about Kazakhstan.  The following poem is appropriate and gives me a more God-like perspective about the hardships we will no doubt face:

If we could see beyond today
As God can see;
If all the clouds should roll away,
The shadows flee;
O’er present griefs we would not fret.
Each sorrow we would soon forget,
For many joys are waiting yet
For you and me.

If we could know beyond today
As God doth know,
Why dearest treasures pass away
And tears must flow;
And why the darkness leads to light,
Why dreary paths will soon grow bright;
Some day life’s wrongs will be made right,
Faith tells us so.

If we could see, if we could know,
We often say,
But God in love a veil doth throw
Across our way;
We cannot see what lies before,
And so we cling to Him the more,
He leads us till this life is o’er;
Trust and obey.

Get Somewhere

The following poem is from Streams in the Desert and credited to “Songs of the Spirit”

Are you groping for a blessing,
Never getting there?
Listen to a word in season,
Get somewhere.

Are you struggling for salvation
By your anxious prayer?
Stop your struggling, simply trust, and–
Get somewhere.

Does the answer seem to linger
To your earnest prayer?
Turn your praying into praise, and–
Get somewhere.

You will never know His fulness
Till you boldly dare
To commit your all to Him, and–
Get somewhere.

“…With Light, and Life and Vernal Air”

sunrise

grain headed out

“Be still, sad soul! life thou no passionate cry,
But spread the desert of thy being bare
To the full searching of the All-seeing eye;
Wait! and through dark misgiving, black despair,
God will come down in pity, and fill the dry
Dead place with light, and life, and vernal air.
by J.C. Sharip

Right now I feel so overwhelmed with the work that needs to be done, now that we are back at the farm.  So much weeding to do, so little time before we head down to TX for a wedding and then to AZ.  The weeds will have to wait, now I have to pack and get organized to see all the different people I must see.  I must hold on to the promise that despite jetlag and strange hours I’m keeping, that God is superintending all the details.

“My Skilless Hand May Break”

two chess tables

Chess is BIG at the Alatau Sanatorium.  The following poem from Streams in the Desert fits with the photo of my husband trying to play chess. 

“Being perplexed, I say,
‘Lord, make it right!
Night is as day to Thee,
Darkness as light.
I am afraid to touch
Things that involve so much;
My trembling hand may shake,
My skilless hand may break;
Thine can make no mistake.’

“Being in doubt I say,
‘Lord, make it plain;
Which is the true, safe way?
Which would be gain?
I am not wise to know,
Nor sure of foot to go;
What is so clear to Thee,
Lord, make it clear to me!'”

“On Clouds Has Poured His Sunshine”

The country of Kazakhstan is an old country but yet young as a democracy, like this young boy on a horse.  This statue is on the main square in Almaty, former capital of Kazakhstan but now they are celebrating the 10 year birthday celebration of Astana (means capital in Kazakh) this weekend.  Almaty is still very much the financial capital of Kazakhstan.  The following poem is from Streams in the Desert.

O Thou of little faith,
God hath not failed thee yet!
When all looks dark and gloomy,
Thou dost so soon forget–

Forget that He has led thee,
And gently cleared thy way;
On clouds has poured His sunshine,
And turned thy night to day.

And if He’s helped thee hitherto,
He will not fail thee now;
How it must wound His loving heart
To see thy anxious brow!

Oh! doubt not any longer,
To Him commit thy way,
Whom in the past thou trusted,
And is ‘just the same today.'”

“He’s on the Upper Road”

I’m going by the upper road, for that still holds the sun,
I’m climbing through night’s pastures where the starry rivers run:
If you should think to seek me in my old dark abode,
You’ll find this writing on the door, “He’s on the Upper Road.”

from Streams in the Desert

“…A Performance of Those Things”

A total arch of a rainbow is an awesome performance but when there are TWO, well there are no words to explain nature’s translucent beauty.  We were at Alatau sanatorium this past weekend and after a rain on Friday night, I was able to capture a fourth of the beauty on my camera!  It seems to go with this poem from Streams in the Desert about the original function of rainbows was God’s promise to NOT flood the earth again.

There shall be a performance of those things
That loving heart hath waited long to see;
Those words shall be fulfilled to which she clings,
Because her God hath promised faithfully;
And, knowing Him, she ne’er can doubt His Word;
“He speaks and it is done.” The mighty Lord!

There shall be a performance of those things,
O burdened heart, rest ever in His care;
In quietness beneath His shadowing wings
Await the answer to thy longing prayer.
When thou hast “cast thy care,” the heart then sings,
There shall be a performance of those things.

There shall be a performance of those things,
O tired heart, believe and wait and pray;
At eventide the peaceful vesper rings,
Though cloud and rain an dstorm have filled the day.
Faith pierces through the mist of doubt that bars
The coming night sometimes, and finds the stars.

There shall be a performance of those things,
O trusting heart, the Lord to thee hath told;
Let Faith and Hope arise, and plume their wings,
And soar towards the sunrise clouds of gold;
The portals of the rosy dawn swing wide,
Revealing joys the darkening night did hide.

by Bessie Porter