SUNDAYS
On Sunday mornings when I hear...
The church bells ring through the year...
I know that kindly folk most everywhere...
Are gathered for an hour of prayer...
I think that God, indeed, must be...
Most pleased His faithful folk to see...
With those in vestments, black and white...
Before the altar candlelight...
When congregations bow and kneel...
And in their prayers God appeal...
He surely will his blessings give...
That they their lives in peace may live...
And when they sing their hymns of old...
In tones of silver and of gold...
I think the echos angels try..
To take with them to heaven high...
I wish that through the weeks and days...
Were filled with Sunday's sacred ways
For it is very likely true...
That God would like it this way too...
~~~
Hi Everybody,
I found this poem this week... I had been going through books that hadn't been touched for many years that my great-niece had gotten down for me from a high book shelf... I hope to separate out and keep what I want and forward many on to charitable organizations to possibly be read by others...
I had a black Bible in my hand when I fell. I didn't recognize it and wondered whose it was so I was moving toward the light. I don't remember how I fell, but I went down and immediately tried to get up, and failed. I think it's been about ten years since I had fallen before, so I think I'm doing pretty good these days. The Bible had something written inside and I wanted to read it... It belonged to my aunt, my mother's sister. I supposed that the way the Bible came to me is that she had decided along the way that she would give "rooms" to each of us (my siblings). I was to have her bedroom furniture and, of course everything in it at the time.
There wasn't much written in the Bible, but it was purchased and documented when she and her husband were married. I found this poem, old and brown from age, clipped obviously from a newspaper, with a hand-written date at the top. I couldn't read it, the print was too small, but I laid it here by my computer, and used a flashlight close to the letters and read each line to type...
white Baptist Church where we all gathered, just as the poem said... The bells would ring each Sunday bright and early to let the people know in New Geneva that the doors were open and ready for their time here with our Lord...
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Maribel Wertz owned the Bible where she recorded her marriage to Warren. This couple was known to me quite well, since they babysat for me while my mother worked everyday. Their home was just down the street from ours in what we would call these days a duplex. I would image that it was once a large house owned by one family, perhaps. The only separation was an interior hallway where bedrooms were accessed for the part where my aunt and uncle slept. And, yes, I admit, I was curious enough when young, to see if the door in the hallway would open... Oh my, it was and led directly into a bedroom! I closed that door quietly and quickly as you can imagine!
The Easter events would have started on Good Friday and end on Easter Sunday. All of the hymns were well known to everybody. It was only in later years that we started learning the newer choruses, such as the one above, "He's Alive!" which is the song, when I awoke this morning, which quickly sprung to mind, realizing it was Easter... Thanking God for His Son!
The poetry, of course, brought on memories... It was a time that I hadn't even graduated from school, had not yet left my home each day to travel to a nearby town to begin working at West Virginia University. It was an insulated time, a quiet time. We had time to ponder the beginning of spring as we saw each bloom come alive with bright colors... Tulips were those that were selected to brighten the church. Either Ruth Black or my sister, Dee, would be playing for church and Sunday School. It was the time when our lives centered around the church... Perhaps at that time of celebration, we would have planned and held a family dinner where everybody brought the food in for all to share... Me, I normally stuck with the food prepared by my family... My Mom and her sisters were great cooks!
Now, I once again am living in the country, where it is quiet and forsythia and jonquils are out as always the first flowers to bloom for spring... I'll enjoy each plant, taking their turns to grow until they bloom and produce their beauty for all to enjoy... But the country has changed so much since the 1960s... Or perhaps, it is only that I have changed. I see the world differently than during my youth. I know that there are people who are at war, fighting for freedom that others are trying to take away from them... And, I know and recognize that it is happening right now... in America, rather than just in a foreign country where we didn't need to worry so much about...
It is a different world... But
I Believe God's Truth and Love Wins
Over Hate, Violence and War!
My Favorite Scripture...
Jesus Tells Us To Love All
We are All Made In His Image
May We Worship Our Risen Savior!
His Truth Will Win... Always!
of this world...
The Battle Belongs to the Lord
We speak Love; We Speak Truth
Never Hate--Never Violence
May Each of You Experience The Joy
of
Just How Great He Is!
He is Indeed Alive!
Today, Worship Our Father
God of Truth...Love...and Light!
Gabby
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