Building Up Life

        Tiniest  insects  build  up  loftiest  mountains.  Broad  bands of  solid  rock,  which  undergird  the  earth,  have  been  welded  by  the  patient,  constant  toil  of  invisible  creatures,  working  on  through  the  ages,  unhasting,  unresting,  fulfilling  their  Maker's will.  On  the  shores  of  primeval  oceans,  watched  only  by  the patient  stars,  these  silent  workmen  have  been  building  for  us  the structure  of  the  world.  And  thus  the  obscure  work  of  unknown nameless  ages  appears  at  last  in  the  sunlight,  the  adorned  and  noble theater  of  that  life  of  man,  which,  of  all  that  is  done  in  this  universe, is  fullest  before  God  of  interest  and  hope.  It  is  thus,  too,  in  life. The  quiet  moments  build  the  years.  The  labors  of  the  obscure  and unremembered  hours  edify  that  palace  of  the  soul,  in  which  it  is  to abide,  and  fabricate  the  organ  whereby  it  is  to  work  and  express itself  through  eternity. J.  B.  Brown.

Pat Barrett sings "Build My Life''

Nature And Man

       Come  with  me  to  the  Yosemite   Valley;  yonder  stands  El  Capitan - the   atmosphere  so  clear,  it  seems   as   though  you  might  strike it  with  a  stone.     Approach  nearer;  how  it   looms   up;  how  it  grows and  widens;  how  grand!     See  yonder   those  shrubs  in  the  crevice - shrubs?     They  are  trees,  a  hundred  feet  in  height,  three  feet  and more  in  diameter.     Do   you   see  that   bend  in  the  face  of  the  rock? That  is  a  fissure,  75  feet  wide.     Nearer  yet,  still  nearer.     It  seems  as if  you  might  touch  it  now  with  your  finger.      Stand  still  under  the shadow  of  El  Capitan.     A   plumb   line  from   the  summit  falls  fifty feet  from  the  base.     Now  look  up,  up,  up,  3,600  feet - two-thirds  of a  mile ‚Äî right  up.     How  grand  and  sublime!    Your  lips  quiver,  your nerves  thrill,  your  eyes  fill  with  tears,  and  you  understand   in  some degree  your  own  littleness.     "The  inhabitants  of  the  earth  are  but as  grasshoppers."     How  small  I  am!     I  could  not  climb  up  fifty  feet on  the  face  of  that  rock,  and  there  it   towers  above  me.      Yonder  is the  great  South  Dome,  rising  sheer  up  6,000  feet - more  than  a  mile, seamed  and  seared  by  the  storms  of  ages,  but  anchored  in  the  valley beneath.     There  are  the  Three  Brothers,   there   the   Cathedral  rocks and  spires,  there  the  Sentinel  Dome   and   the  Sentinel  Rock.     How magnificent!      See   yonder   the   wonderful   Yosemite  Falls  leaping through  a  gorge  eighteen  feet  before  it  strikes,  coming  down  like  sky-rockets, exploding  as  they  fall;  striking,  it  leaps  400  feet,  and  again it  leaps  600  feet.   More  than  half  a  mile the  water  pours  over.   What a  dash,  what  a  magnificent  anthem  ascending  to  the  great  Creator! Now  look  around  you  in  every  direction,  and  you  feel  the  littleness  of man.  Oh!  I  am  but  as  the  dust  in  the  balance,  but  as  the  small  dust in  the  balance;  but  God  created  man  in  His  own  image,  and  breathed into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life,  and  made  him - not  gave  him - but  made  him  a  living  soul;  therefore  I  am  a  man,  a  living  man,  but  that is  a  dead  rock.  I  am  a  living  man.  The  elements  shall  melt  with fervent  heat,  the  world  be  removed  like  a  cottage,  the  milky  way  shall shut  its  two  awful  arms  and  hush  its  dumb  prayer  forever,  but  I  shall live,  for  I  am  a  man  with  the  fire  of  God  in  me  and  a  spark  of  immortality that  will  never  go  out.  The  universe,  grand  and  magnificent and  sublime  as  it  is,  is  but  the  nursery  to  man's  infant  soul,  and  the child  is  worth  more  than  the  nursery;  therefore,  I,  a  living,  breathing, thinking,  hoping  man,  with  a  reason  capable  of  understanding,  in some  degree,  the  greatness  of  the  Almighty,  a  mind  capable  of  eternal development,  and  a  heart  capable  of  loving  Him,  am  worth  more than  all  God's  material  universe,  for  I  am  a man  with  a  destiny  before me  as  high  as  heaven  and  as  vast  as  eternity. John B. Gough.

(Yosemite National Park and Hymn by RadiantTV)

With  other  ministrations  thou,  O  Nature!
Healest  thy  wandering  and  distempered  child:
Thou  pourest  on  him  thy  soft  influences,
Thy  sunny  hues,  fair  forms,  and  breathing  sweets, -
Thy  melodies  of  woods,  and  winds,  and  waters
Till  he  relent,  and  can  no  more  endure
To  be  a  jarring  and  a  dissonant  thing
Amid  this  general  dance  and  minstrelsy;
But,  bursting  into  tears,  wins  back  his  way,
His  angry  spirit  healed  and  harmonized
By  the  benignant  touch  of  love  and  beauty.

by Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge.

Life A Journey

Life a race from start to finish!

        Life  is  a  journey,  the  end  is  nearing.  It  is  a  race,  the  goal  will soon  be  reached.  It  is  a  voyage,  the  port  will  soon  be  in  sight.  Time is  but  a  narrow  isthmus  between  two  eternities.  You  are  going  surely How  many  things  you  have  already  left  behind! - the  old  home, friends,  parents,  scenes  of  childhood  and  early  years.  How  much  of the  way  you  have  passed  over!  You  will never  return  to  the  place from  which  you  started.  You  are  going  on,  and  on,  and  away  from all  your  early  years.  It  is  a  startling  thought,  that  our  business  will soon  be left  behind;  that  our work  will  be  done,  and  that  we  shall leave  this  stage  of  being - leave  it  forever - our  homes  and  cares,  and all  the  interests  that  engage  us  here,  and  never  more  come  back.  It is  an  amazing thought  that  we,  if  we  are  Christians,  shall  soon  be  in heaven.  Think  of  it!  Time  and  all  its  opportunities  passed  forever! The  suns  and  moons  and  stars  all  behind  us;  springs  and  summers and  autumns  all  gone;  the  sights  and  sounds  of  earth  all  passed away !  Soon - very  soon - shall  we  be  in  heaven.  "We  shall  see  God, we  shall  behold  Christ  in  His  glory,  we  shall  look  upon  the  angels. Mothers  will  be  searching  for  their  children,  and  husbands  and  wives will  find  each  other;  and  all  hands,  parted  in  Christ,  will  be  clasped again.  It  is  like  coming  into  port  after  an  ocean  voyage.  The  shining shore-line,  how  it  grows  on  the  waiting  eye!  The  joy  will  be  like that  with  which  the  Crusaders  first  saw  Jerusalem. Rev.  C.  L  Goodell,  D.  D.

You Are God!

For you are great and do marvelous deeds; you alone are God. Psalm 86: 10

The Cross by John Donne

Since Christ embraced the Cross itself, dare I

His image, th’image of his Cross deny?

Would I have profit by the sacrifice,

And dare the chosen altar to despise?

It bore all other sins, but is it fit

That is should bear the sin of scorning it?

Who from the picture would avert his eye,

How would he fly his pains, who there did die?

From me, no pulpit, nor misgrounded law,

Nor scandal taken, shall this Cross withdraw,

It shall not, for it cannot; for, the loss

Of this Cross, were to me another cross;

Better were worse, for, no affliction,

No cross is so extreme, as to have none.

Who can blot out the Cross, which th’ instrument

Of God, dewed on me in the Sacrament?

Who can deny me power, and liberty

To stretch mine arms, and mine own cross to be?

Swim, and at every stroke, thou art thy cross,

The mast and yard make one, where seas to do toss.

Look down, thou spiest birds raised on crossed wings;

All the globe’s frame, and sphere’s, is nothing else

But the meridians crossing parallels.

Material crosses then, good physic be,

And yet spiritual have chief dignity.

These for extracted chemic medicine serve,

And cure much better, and as well preserve;

Then are you your own physic, or need none,

When stilled, or purged by tribulation.

For when that Cross ungrudged, unto you sticks,

Then are you to yourself, a crucifix.

As perchance, carvers do not faces make,

But that away, which hid them there, do take:

Let crosses, so, take what hid Christ in thee,

And be his image, or not his, but he.

But, as oft alchemists do coiners prove,

So may a self-despising, get self-love.

And then as worst surfeits, of best meats be,

So is pride, issued from humility,

For, ’tis no child, but monster; therefore cross

Your joy in crosses, else, ’tis double loss,

And cross thy senses, else, both they, and thou

Must perish soon, and to destruction bow.

For if the’eye seek good objects, and will take

No cross from bad, we cannot ‘scape a snake.

So with harsh, hard, sour, stinking, cross the rest,

Make them indifferent; call nothing best.

But most the eye needs crossing, that can roam,

And move; to th’ others th’ objects must come home.

And cross thy heart: for that in man alone

Points downwards, and hath palpitation.

Cross those dejections, when it downward trends,

And when it to forbidden heights pretends.

And as the brain through bony walls doth vent

By sutures, which a cross’s form present,

So when thy brain works, ere thou utter it,

Cross and correct concupiscence of wit.

Be covetous of crosses, let none fall.

Cross no man else, but cross thyself in all.

Then doth the Cross of Christ work fruitfully

Within our hearts, when we love harmlessly

That Cross’s pictures much, and with more care

That Cross’s children, which our crosses are.

The Figure of Christ

Monsignor Bonomelli, in a letter read at the World Missionary Conference held in Edinburgh, June, 1910, said:

       Jesus has, in reality, not vanished either from history, or from the life of Christianity. He lives at all times in millions of souls. He is enthroned as King in all hearts. The figure of Christ has not the cold splendor of a distant star, but the warmth of a heart which is near us, a flame burning in the soul of believers and keeping alive their con- sciences. Putting aside certain opinions, which, honored at the moment, may possibly be abandoned to-morrow, criticism had hoped to effect a complete demolition of the conception of Christ, but what criticism really demolished was merely irrelevant matter. The figure of Christ, after all the onslaughts of criticism, now stands forth more pure and divine than ever and compels our adoration. 

• Christ Lives In Me by George Toews
• Christ Lives In Me
• What Is Love?

 Rend Collective - Christ Lives In Me (Audio)