Limitations

    The men we consider the most evil --such as Hitler or Stalin -- were man who had unfettered power.  What would you be like if you had such power? By God's grace, most of us are not granted that.  We can stand back and judge these  dictators from afar, labeling them evil monsters, but we might very well be just as evil given the same set of circumstances.
    The same point can be made about gifts:  God is also gracious to limit our talents.  If we were the best -- at anything -- what kind of monster might we become?  How many people who are the best in their field do you even want to be around? 
   Powerlessness and inadequacy are not normally at the top of my thanksgiving list, but today my heart overflows for these gracious restraints.

A Woman's Shortcomings

Unless you can think, when the song is done,
No other is soft in the rhythm;
Unless you can feel, when left by One,
That all men else go with him;
Unless you can know, when unpraised by his breath,
That your beauty itself wants proving;
Unless you can swear “For life, for death!” —
Oh, fear to call it loving!

Unless you can muse in a crowd all day
On the absent face that fixed you;
Unless you can love, as the angels may,
With the breadth of heaven betwixt you;
Unless you can dream that his faith is fast,
Through behoving and unbehoving;
Unless you can die when the dream is past —
Oh, never call it loving!
-- From "A Woman's Shortcomings" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

A Woman's Question

Do you know you have asked for the costliest thing
Ever made by the hand above?
A woman's heart, and a woman's life--
And a woman's wonderful love.

Do you know you have asked for this priceless thing
As a child might ask for a toy?
Demanding what others have died to win
With the reckless dash of a boy.

You have written my lesson of duty out,
Manlike, you have questioned me.
Now stand at the bars of my woman's soul
Until I shall question thee.

You require your mutton shall always be hot,
Your socks and your shirt be whole;
I require your heart be as true as God's stars
And as pure as His heaven your soul.

You require a cook for your mutton and beef,
I require a far greater thing;
A seamstress you're wanting for socks and shirts---
I look for a man and a king.

A king for the beautiful realm called Home,
And a man that his Maker, God,
Shall look upon as he did on the first
And say: "It is very good."

I am fair and young, but the rose may fade
From this soft young cheeck one day;
Will you love me then, 'mid the falling leaves
As you did 'mong the blossoms of May?

Is your heart an ocean so strong and true,
I may launch my all on its tide?
A loving woman finds heaven or hell
On the day she is made a bride.

I require all things that are grand and true,
All things that a man should be;
If you give this all, I would stake my life
To be all you demand of me.

If you cannot be this, a laundress and cook
You can hire and little to pay;
But a woman's heart and a woman's life
Are not to be won that way.


Lena Lathrop

Golden Promise

All that glitters is not gold.  With joy, I am reminded too that all gold does not glitter. My heart rejoices knowing that the Lord right now is at work, refining and purifying the gold that He has told His servant is there.

Pressing On

      To go into a football game with the idea that the only thing that counts is winning is an obvious vice.  Everyone understands that playing well matters, and winning isn't within your control.   (Hillsdale President Dr. Arnn)

Here's to the men who lose!
What though their work be e'er so nobly planned,
And watched with zealous care,
No glorious halo crowns their efforts grand,
Contempt is failure's share.

Here's to the men who lose!
If triumph's easy smile our struggles greet,
Courage is easy then;
The king is he who, after fierce defeat,
Can up and fight again.

Here's to the men who lose!
The ready plaudits of a fawning world
Ring sweet in victor's ears;
The vanquished's banners never are unfurled--
For them there sound no cheers.

Here's to the men who lose!
The touchstone of true worth is not success;
There is a higher test--
Though fate may darkly frown, onward to press,
And bravely do one's best.

Here's to the men who lose!
It is the vanquished's praises that I sing,
And this is the toast I choose:
"A hard-fought failure is a noble thing;
Here's to the men who lose!"

Author Unknown