“Going to the Dogs”

Today my mind has been tumbling bits and pieces of the latest news and all the implications, real or imagined, for our world today. A rather unprofitable pursuit, since my mulling makes not a speck of difference in the grand scheme of things.

But we do hear news that disturbs us. Then my mind went back to a song recorded in 1965, “The Eve of Destruction,” and I had to smile just a bit. We were in the Cold War years and someone pushing the button and wiping the world out with atomic warfare was everyone’s dread.

Back 52 years ago. Around the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Nam war, the KGB. We lived through all of that. We here in Canada lived through the Quebec Referendum and were not split into two nations. Then the world survived Y2K. About the time we thought things were going well 9/11 hit us all pretty hard. Air traffic around the world was frozen and we in the Western world wondered what would come next. Now President Trump is leading the US and I gather from recent reports that we’re on the Eve of Destruction again.

Yes, we’re facing serious matters one doesn’t want to take lightly, but I did think of this little poem. It pulled my mind out of the whirlpool of dark thoughts, so I decided to post it, hoping it will give someone else a glimmer of hope.

GOING TO THE DOGS

My grandad, viewing earth’s worn clogs,
said things were going to the dogs.
His grandad in his house of logs,
said things were going to the dogs.
His grandad in the Flemish bogs
said things were going to the dogs.
His grandad in his old skin togs
said things were going to the dogs.
There’s one thing that I have to state:
the dogs have had a good long wait.

Author Unknown

Dog worried.jpg

 

Old Man Green

by Edgar Guest

Old Man Green you’ve never heard of,
papers never used a word of
him or anything he did.
Seems as though his light was hid
day by day from mortal eyes,
wasn’t clever, great or wise;
just a carpenter who made
odds and ends and liked his trade.

Old Man Green lived over there
in that humble cottage, where
five plump babies came to bless
those small rooms with happiness
and as time went on they grew
just as rich men’s children do:
three smart boys and two fine girls
with the prettiest of curls.

Old Man Green from day to day
put up shelves to earn his pay,
took the little that he made
following faithfully his trade
and somehow his wife and he
managed it most carefully
and five children, neat and clean,
answered to the name of Green.

Old Man Green with saw and plane
little from the world could gain,
but with that small sum he earned
many things his children learned.
“Those Green boys,” the teachers said,
“Have the stuff to get ahead.
Finest girls we’ve ever seen,
little Kate and Mary Green.”

This is all there is to tell,
boys and girls are doing well;
each with courage and with grace
fills in life an honored place.
Old Man Green is dead and gone,
but his worth is shining on;
this his praise, if praise be needed,
As a father he succeeded.

From his book The Light of Faith
©1926 by the Reilly & Lee Co.

Seek And Ye Shall Find

“Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find;
knock, and it shall be opened unto you:
For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth;
and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.”
— The words of Jesus in Matthew 7:7-8

One night a young man from Albania sat in a motel room in Spain, frustrated and discouraged. He was trying to make his way to a new life Canada but he was now hopelessly snared in a thorny ticket of red tape. He’d done everything he could, but the immigration officials were still shaking their heads.

He’d been brought up under communist teaching, had heard over and over, “God doesn’t exist.” This idea, they were told in school, is a lie meant to keep the common people in bondage. This myth is still being perpetrated by deceived fanatics, but we will wipe it out in time.”

As he grew up he began to question, “Why do the communists have to keep saying this? Surely by now a myth would be no trouble to them.” Or maybe God isn’t a myth? Maybe the communists weren’t able to stamp out this God and Bible business because there was something to it? He began to feel a longing to know the truth; later, working in Germany, he was able to obtain an Albanian Bible and started reading it.

In time he’d made his way to Spain hoping for a way to emigrate to Canada. Now here he sat all alone, far from home, his dreams for the future shattered. In despair he cried out to this God the Bible talked about. “Are You real? Do You see me? Will You help me?”

He looked up and saw a vivid picture on the wall. A painting of Jesus with His arms held out, to Cheti it felt like Jesus was inviting him to come. Did it appear at that instant or had it been hanging there all along and he’d just not noticed it before? In any case, he saw it now and felt the Lord speaking to him at that moment. The whole puzzle of religion became clear to him. God is real and had heard his prayer. Jesus is real. The Bible he’d been reading was telling him the truth.

That night he turned his life over to God and asked for His guidance in the future. The next day he went back to the Canadian immigration office and he received the emigration permit he needed.

LET HIM PROVE IT!

“Likewise also the chief priests mocking him, with the scribes and elders, said, “He saved others; himself he cannot save. If he be the King of Israel, let him now come down from the cross, and we will believe him.” — Matthew 27:42

In the Bible we read that the religious rulers of Jesus’ time followed him around constantly. They heard his teachings, saw his miracles — and most of them would not believe He was from God. If God really sent him, they said, Jesus would follow the traditions. For lack of a better explanation they said, “it’s the devil himself that’s giving this man power to work wonders.”

When Jesus hung on the cross there was a great earthquake, the sky was darkened, the heavy curtain of the temple was torn in half from top to bottom. Two days after Jesus’ death the soldiers guarding the tomb came running and said, “An angel came down and rolled the stone away.” Solid proof, right? The Jewish leaders bribed the guards to keep quiet about this. (And that silence wouldn’t have come cheap, I don’t think.)

Their minds were made up about Jesus. They asked for signs but refused to see. They weren’t seeking so they never found. They didn’t knock, so the truth was never opened to them like it was to our friend Cheti in his hotel room in Spain.

“But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.”— The Apostle Paul, writing in to the Hebrews: ch 11:6.

The Neighborly Man

by Edgar Guest

Men are of two kinds, and he
was of the kind I’d like to be.
Some preach their virtues, and a few
express their lives by what they do.
That sort was he. No flowery phrase
or glibly spoken words of praise
won friends for him. He wasn’t cheap
or shallow, but his course ran deep,
and it was pure. You know the kind;
Not many in a life you find
whose deeds outrun their words so far
that more that what they seem, they are.

There are two kinds of lies as well:
the kind you live, the ones you tell.
Back through his years from age to youth
he never acted one untruth.
Out in the open light he fought
and didn’t care what others thought
nor what they said about his fight
if he believed that he was right.
The only deeds he ever hid
were acts of kindness that he did.

What speech he had was plain and blunt;
his was an unattractive front.
Yet children loved him; babe and boy
played with the strength he could employ,
without one fear, and they are fleet
to sense injustice and deceit.

No back door gossip linked his name
with any shady tale of shame.
He did not have to compromise
with evil-doers, shrewd and wise,
and let them ply their vicious trade
because of some past escapade.

Men are of two kinds, and he
was of the kind I’d like to be.
No door at which he ever knocked
against his manly form was locked.
If ever man on earth was free
and independent, it was he.

No broken pledge lost him respect;
he met all men with head erect
and when He passed I think there went
a soul to yonder firmament
so white, so splendid and so fine
it came almost to God’s design.

from his book A Heap O’ Livin’
c 1916 by the Reilly & Britton Co.

Results and Roses

by Edgar Guest

The man who wants a garden fair,
or small or very big,
with flowers growing here and there,
must bend his back and dig.

The things are mighty few on earth
that wishes can attain;
whate’er we want of any worth
we’ve got to work to gain.

It matters not what goal you seek,
its secret here reposes:
you’ve got to dig from week to week
to get results and roses.

From his book, A Heap O’ Livin’
© 1916 by the Reilly & Britton Company

Wisdom of a Frog

This morning, searching for some inspiration, I looked on Pixabay.com and saw this wise-looking little frog. Which fit in quite well with what I’d already been contemplating.

I was thinking about all those old maxims grandmothers recited, like “a stitch in time saves nine.” So much story/wisdom in a few brief words!

So I’m posting this frog picture along a quote from William Feather and adding my brief thought on the subject. (According to Wikki, William Feather, 1889-1981, was an American author and publisher based in Cleveland.)

You’re welcome to leave your suggestions as to what wisdom this frog is pondering — or share a thought on the quote in the caption. If you feel really inspired, you can download the frog picture from Pixabay; it’s right on the front page. Share the link to your post along with your comment.

From thinking

“The only thrill worthwhile is the one that comes from making something of yourself.” — William Feather

The only fulfilling tasks in life,
the employments most worthwhile,
are making something of your self,
and making others smile.

— C. Goodnough

Have a great week, everyone!

The Devil Laughs

A pastor friend of ours tells the story of how he and his wife heard the devil’s fiendish laugh one night and it terrified them. During the day he and his wife had gotten into some dispute and at bedtime they were still upset with each other. Silently they got ready for bed. He lie down on his side; she on hers, backs to each other, not a word exchanged. Caught up in their angry thoughts, sleep didn’t come for either of them.

Suddenly in the silence they heard the most menacing, diabolical laughter. Horrified, they both jumped out of bed; a moment later they were on their knees praying to be delivered from this evil. Whatever the issue was that caused their dispute, it seemed so foolish when they understood what a victory it gave to the forces of Satan.

He and his wife felt that God allowed them to hear for themselves how the devil gloats when he can divide couples. I believe this is what God hears when the devil succeeds in stirring up strife in homes, in churches, between friends. Don’t you think all hell shouts the victory when a Christian loses his temper, or gives in to jealousy or discouragement? When confidence is destroyed, vows are broken, and souls that could have been helped are left to go astray?

One day over the kitchen sink I was thinking about a brother who, having been a faithful pastor for some years, became too wise in his own eyes and finally lost the way. It was shocking to hear him renounce the truths he once believed and taught. Thinking back on his years of service I shook my head and thought, This is so cruelly unfair!

I was shocked when it seemed right away the devil answered my thought — no, not audibly, but I heard his reply clearly in my mind: “I love cruelly unfair!”

This is our enemy. We can’t let him win.

“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: Whom resist steadfast in the faith…” I Peter 5:8-9