Through A Glass Darkly

       We are strangers in the universe of God. Confined to that spot on which we dwell, we are permitted to know nothing of what is transacting in the regions above and around us. By much labor we acquire a superficial acquaintance with a few sensible objects which we find in our present habitation; but we enter and we depart, under a total ignorance of the nature and laws of the spiritual world. One subject in particular, when our thoughts proceed in this train, must often recur upon the mind with peculiar anxiety; that is the immortality of the soul, and the future state of man. Exposed as we are at present to such variety of afflictions, and subjected to so much disappointment in all our pursuits of happiness, why, it may be said, has our gracious Creator denied us the consolation of a full discovery of our future existence, if indeed such an existence be prepared for us? 

      Reason, it is true, suggests many arguments in behalf of immortality; Revelation gives full assurance of it. Yet even that Gospel, which is said to have brought “life and immortality to light,” allows us to see only “through a glass darkly.” “It doth not yet appear what we shall be.” Our knowledge of a future world is very imperfect; our ideas of it are faint and confused. It is not displayed in such a manner as to make an impression suited to the importance of the object. The faith even of the best men is much inferior, both in clearness and in force, to the evidence of sense; and proves on many occasions insufficient to counterbalance the temptations of the present world. Happy moments indeed there sometimes are in the lives of pious men; when, sequestered from worldly cares, and borne up on the wing of divine contemplation, they rise to a near and transporting view of immortal glory. But such efforts of the mind are rare, and cannot be long supported. When the spirit of meditation subsides, this lively sense of a future state decays; and though the general belief of it remains, yet even good men, when they return to the ordinary business and cares of life, seem to rejoin the multitude, and to resume the same hopes, and fears, and interests, which influence the rest of the world. -by Rev. Hugh Blair, D. D.

"Love Your Neighbor" coloring page

Description of Coloring Page: text, appears in Bible in Leviticus 19:18, Matthew 22:37-39, and Mark 12:29-31, butterfly coloring page by kathy grimm

• "He is Risen Indeed!" Butterfly Coloring Page
• Learn how to draw baby chicks scratching here and there, looking for something to eat!
  

Don't forget to drag the png. or jpg into a Word Document and enlarge the image as much as possible before printing it folks. If you have a question about this coloring page, just type into the comment box located directly below this post and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I can.

Death An Angel of Light

        Are we then immortal? Oh! then, we are "blessed" indeed! Death is not the frightful monster which he is so constantly represented to be; he is an angel of light and mercy, veiling his resplendent glories under the shadowy drapery of the tomb, lest the saints should become so much enamored with his loveliness, as to hasten at once to leave this erring, darkened world, to dwell in his radiant dominion, and thus deprive the earth of the salt which has so long preserved it from destruction. His exit, through the frowning portals of the grave, is but to prevent those who are "in the Lord," from crowding, with hasty, willing steps, the pathway to his mysterious dwelling place, so delightful and glorious, as soon as the gloomy exterior is passed! Can it be, that this body, soon to become inanimate, and waste to dust, can, and will, revive and live ? that the eye, though dimmed with the film of death, will rebrighten, and sparkle with looks of recognition and love? That this lifeless body, once so loved, and embraced with the fondest affection and delight, but now so loathsome that it is looked upon with horror, and we bear it from our sight, and conceal it from view in the dark earth, will come forth more perfect and glorious than ever? Yea, saith the Spirit; from henceforth, "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord;" for "It is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality." Then shall death be swallowed up in victory. Oh! are they not "blessed" who die only to live forever, in a state so infinitely above the most perfect condition of humanity, that it is " not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." Rev. Sidney Dyer, D. D.

WHAT IS DEATH?

" What is the soul? The seminal principle from the loins of destiny,

This world is the womb: the body, its enveloping membrane :

The bitterness of dissolution, dame Fortune's pangs of childbirth.

What is death? To be born again, an angel of eternity."

Buzurgi. {The Persian Poet)

Right and Wrong Views of Death

Too much vision?

       We employ with regard to death a great deal of pagan imagery, which can hardly fail to let low and unworthy ideas into our minds. We talk of the blighting of early promise, of the premature death of the young and the beautiful. We too often speak of the pure and the good that have gone from us, as if they were objects of pity. We regret for them the brief pleasures, the withering joys of the passing day. And then our thoughts revert, oftener than a high Christian culture should permit, to the sad accompaniments of dissolution and the last lonely home of the frail tenement of clay, even as the caterpillar might look upon the torn covering of the chrysalis as all that remained of his fellow-worm, ignorant that the rent and forsaken tabernacle marked the higher birth of its tenant. But our faith tells us that to those to whom it was Christ to live, it is gain to die. Let our thoughts, then, linger not about the grave, but seek our kindred in the nearer presence of their Father and their Savior, in the home where every holy wish is met and every pure desire fulfilled, where suffering and sorrow are no more, and life clothes itself in eternal youth and unfading beauty. What would our brief joys be to those to whom all the avenues of divine wisdom are free, the riches of infinite love unfolded, and a boundless sphere of duty and of happiness laid open? In the language of Moore: Prof. A. P. Peabody, D. D.

How happy
The holy spirits who wander there,
'Mid flowers that shall never fade or fall !
Though mine were the gardens of earth and sea,
Though the stars themselves had flowers for me,
One blossom of heaven out-blooms them all.
Go, wing thy flight from star to star,
From world to luminous world, as far
As the universe spreads its flaming wall ;
Take all the pleasures of all the spheres,
And multiply each through endless years,
One minute of heaven is worth them all. 

Influence Of The Dead...

       Oh, tell me not that they are dead - that generous host, that airy army of invisible heroes! They hover as a cloud of witnesses above this nation. Are they dead that yet speak louder than we can speak, and a more universal language? Are they dead that yet act? Are they dead that yet move upon society, and inspire the people with nobler motives and more heroic patriotism? Every mountain and hill shall have its treasured name, every river shall keep some solemn title, every valley and every lake shall cherish its honored register; and, till the mountains are worn out, and the rivers forget to flow, till the clouds are weary of replenishing springs, and the springs forget to gush, and the rills to sing, shall their names be kept fresh with reverent honors which are inscribed upon the book of national remembrance. Henry Ward Beecher

"The Most Famous Man in America" Henry Ward Beecher

The Dead Live Beyond

 The Dead Live Beyond

His is not dead, but only lieth sleeping

In the sweet refuge of his Master's breast,

And far away from sorrow, toil, and weeping

He is not dead, but only taking rest.

What tho the highest hopes he dearly cherished

All faded gently as the setting sun;

What tho our own fond expectations perished

Ere yet life's noblest labors seemed begun.

What tho he standeth at no earthly altar,

Yet in white raiment, on the golden floor,

Where love is perfect, and no step can falter,

He serveth as a priest for evermore!

O glorious end of life's short day of sadness,

O blessed course so well and nobly run!

O home of true and everlasting gladness,

O crown unfading! and so early won!

Tho tears will fall we bless thee, O our Father,

For the dear one forever with the blest, 

And wait the Easter dawn when thou shalt gather

Thine own, long parted, to their endless rest.

"Take my hand and lead me" hymn