The 4th of July is now over, and the smoke of the fireworks have cleared. Parades have ceased. The drumming patriotic songs have resonated into the annals of time. People have died. Those left behind are grieving. Prices are rising. Famine is looming. The economy is falling.
And we are still here.
Daily I am reminded, by the crows who come to me for scraps, of how God provided for Elijah using the ravens. Indeed, Jesus reminds us in Luke 12 that the ravens do not have storehouses nor barns, but God always provides for them. Thus, the crows are a reminder to me that God will always provide; no matter how hard things get or how dark our days “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches over me!”
As this world grows darker and darker, I am learning why the caged bird sings. I am pressing on in spite of my own many physical infirmities and those of my aging parents, and all the questions and buried dreams. I am hoping still, always hoping in the return of my Christ, worshiping still the glorious, risen King, and loving more deeply the unfathomable, eternal God. As His Holy Spirit inspires and empowers, I serve in my church, write articles to expose the growing darkness, as well as to encourage other Christians to press on and shine more brightly than before, and write worship songs to my King.
The time is short. Christ’s return is more immanent now than before. The greatest tribulation that this world has ever seen is near. And we as the Church must pray to be accounted worthy to escape all that is coming upon the earth (Luke 21:36). It is time to be ready!
We are the examples of Christ in this world, living epistles (2 Corinthians 3:2). We are the examples of His love. And love is not about self, it is about God and others. It is not about our own comforts or our own interests or our own desires – rather, it is all about dying to self, taking up our cross daily, and following Him (Matthew 16, Luke 9). It seems that the “American” needs to be extracted from the “Christian”. American Christians all too often have an “American” concept of Christianity that is all about life being good and good things happening and self always being satisfied and comfortable. But, really, what is comfortable about dying? What is satisfying about taking up one’s cross? Dying and the cross is all about learning obedience through the things that are suffered, whether through persecution or illness or hardships or unfairness. Yes, the “American” must come out of the Christian, in order for the Christian to thrive, grow and be ready.
We are all birds in the cage of this world. Though each of us is born to fly, to sing, to build nests in tallest trees or scruffy bushes or on rugged sides of cliffs; to drink from refreshing, ever-flowing, snowy streams that flow down from the throne of the mountain of God, and to lift high our voices in song to our all-glorious Creator. But, we have been placed in the cage of this world – dank with hardships, steely with bars of suffering, and fed on spoonfuls of pain. But, inside of us is a song so deep that we cannot help but sing, and hearts overflowing to Christ our King. For one day, because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, we know that we shall fly on wings unclipped, lifted high on refreshing breezes into the life-giving presence of the living God. And so, we as caged birds with all that is within us sing, sing, sing – unceasingly sing praises unto our Lord of lords and King of kings!
But, this also means that the return of Christ is all the closer! Indeed, the trumpet call of God about to sound, the voice of the archangel to shout, and Jesus to snatch His Bride home! Soon and very soon, we are going to see the King!!! Hallelujah!!! Amen! And the dead in Christ will rise first, and then those of us who are alive and remain will be caught up to meet the Lord in the air. And we will forever be with the Lord!!! (1 Thessalonians 4:16-18).
But, “until then my heart will go on singing Until then with joy I’ll carry on Until the day my eyes behold my Saviour Until the day God calls me home.”
And as the rest of Rhonda Vincent’s song goes: (stanza 1) “My heart can sing when I pause to remember, A heartache here is but a stepping stone, Along a path that’s winding always upward, This troubled world is not my final home. (stanza 2) The things of earth will dim and lose their value, If we recall they’re borrowed for a while, And things of earth that cause this heart to tremble, Remember there will only bring a smile.”
God bless you, dear friends, as you chose to sing. Jesus is coming. And until then, with joy we’ll carry on, for He is our provider (Psalm 37:25), the One who still holds the world together by the word of His great power! (Hebrews 1:3).
What is the national anthem of heaven?
What are its colors?
What is its flag?
What do the uniforms of the military Host look like?
And what are the protocols of the court of our great God?
How awesome His splendor!
Can you see it?
The flag raised high,
the clear, strong trumpets announcing the King,
the Host is all at attention in their shining white,
as “regal robes are now unfolding,
and heaven’s grandstand is all in place,”
the drums begin to roll
and the heavenly, national anthem begins
as the courts of heaven ring forth the triumphant sound
of the Kingdom that will never end
and a King whose fair renown will never fade with time!
"How marvelous, how wonderful!
And my song shall ever be:
How marvelous, how wonderful!”
A nation truly under God
and indubitably indivisible,
with liberty in Christ,
and unadulterated justice for all.
"Land of the free,
Home of the brave!"
A land that right now is “fairer than day,
and by faith we can see it afar”
– yet not so very far now! –
for Jesus is at the door,
and His jubilant and long awaited inaugural entry is about to commence.
“All hail King Jesus!
All hail Emmanuel!
King of kings!
Lord of Lords!
Bright Morning star!”
And the government will rest upon His shoulders!
Our Everlasting Father,
Prince of Peace,
Whose government will have no end!
Can you hear the music starting?
Can you see the flags unfurling?
Can you smell the fragrance of heaven?
“And the things of earth”
are growing “strangely dim
in the light of His glory and grace”.
The earth is fading away.
The sky is receding like a scroll.
All nations of this earth are falling
and becoming the "kingdoms of our Lord
and of His Christ! And of His Christ!
And He shall reign forever and ever!
And He shall reign forever and ever!"
The Spirit and the Bride say “Come!”
All pilgrims and strangers of earth,
all true citizens of heaven say, “Come!”
“Let all the redeemed of the Lord say so!”
Praise the Lord!
With breathless anticipation We waitWith eager expectation and ceaseless hope
We waitWith deepening love and relentless faith
We wait The door is opening...The King is Coming!Even so, “Come Quickly Lord Jesus!”
prose written by: H. E. Basaar
written on: July 4, 2022
Updated: July 5, 2022Dedicated to friend Don who inspired the writing of this piece.
Be blessed this July 4th as we look back on what was the God-blessed greatness of the United States of America and of His eternal Kingdom’s greatness then, now, and yet to come!
Below is a special work of fiction. It is a children’s story by Holy Light Ministries and is based on 2 Corinthians 12:9 & Philippians 4:13. It is dedicated to a particular young lady named April and all others who feel inadequate and purposeless. May you be blessed by this imaginative, Bible-based story.
“On a very blustery day in April, a colorful little butterfly emerged into the world. The silver trumpets of the Butterfly Kingdom resounded near and far, and all the butterflies rejoiced with flutters of congratulations. The King and Queen, Monarch Butterflies, of the realm sent gifts, while ambassadors from other kingdoms sent various treasures. From the Bee Hives came golden honey, from the Chicken Coops came eggs, from the Tree Realm of Chipmunks and Squirrels came nuts, from the Bear Caves were sent berries, the Bird Airport sent fruit and seeds, the Sheep Pen sent wool, the Crow kingdom brought corn, and the list could go on indefinitely (what the dogs and cats sent shall not be mentioned!). There was dancing and feasting on that spectacular though stormy day when a butterfly of purple and pink graced the air with her silvery lavender wings.
But she was a delicate butterfly. Her wings were thin, and she grew afraid that the wind would tear her to pieces. So, she refused to fly. Though her beautiful mother, garbed in blue, silver and gold, tried to encourage her to exercise her wings, she refused. Her fun-loving sisters, who glittered with red and gold, fluttered about her happily, but she herself would not be happy. After all, what was there to be happy about? She could not fly like they could. She felt absolutely useless, for she could not fly nor be productive like all others creatures of the Butterfly Kingdom and of the forest realm.
One day while her sisters were playing with each other and their friends and her mother ran some errands in town, she sat alone on the edge of a cliff, her silvery lavender wings drooping and large tear drops falling down her slender face.
Tromp, tromp, tromp! Sounded behind her, but she did not hear it. Her sobs were too loud. Thump, clomp, tromp! Thudded nearer to her, and then stopped. And though she still did not see nor hear, a man sat down on a log next to her where he looked down into the valley far below.
It was a misty valley speckled with crystal studded webs and glistening rivers of grass. A sparkling stream, flowing icily down from the snow-hooded mountains in the distance, ribboned its way through the emerald world. It was entrancing, and the man sat silently for several moments, his eyes dancing with its beauty.
Then, completely aware of the little crying butterfly, he turned and addressed it.
“Little one, why do you cry?” His voice was deep, and she turned her reddened eyes in his direction. Though he had startled her, she did not jump nor try to fly away. When she continued to sniffle but did not answer, he asked the question again. “Little one, what is wrong on such a lovely day?”
She tried to dry her tears, but they just kept streaming down her face. “I, I,” she choked, “I can’t fly!” The streaming tears turned into a gushing river.
“But you have wings don’t you?” He asked, his eyes examining her. “Looks like it to me!”
She nodded meekly. “But, but, but,” she wiped her nose, “they don’t work right.”
“What do you mean, little one?”
“Can’t you see?” Her voice grew higher in pitch, and she fluttered them out so that he could see them more clearly. “They’re too thin!” Again she sobbed.
“Come here, little one.” He extended an open hand to her. “Come, hop into my hand.” She shook her somber head no, but with great gentleness and grace he lifted her from the end of the log.
“I, I, I…” she tried to speak, but her voice trembled and faltered.
After many seconds of silence, his deep voice whispered, “Why are you here and not with your sisters and Mother?”
“They don’t understand! They think I should fly anyway, but I just know the wind will tear my wings to pieces! I just know it!!!” Her eyes grew wide with fear.
He breathed in deeply the cool morning air, and sighed. “Does your family know where you are?” She shook her head no.
His expressive eyes, warm with compassion, spoke louder than his words when he said, “Why are you here on the edge of this cliff, little one?”
“Because, I, I,” she lowered her frail voice and turned from his eyes, “I don’t want to live any more. And, well, I thought that since I have no purpose and can’t even fly, I’d just throw myself over this cliff.”
He stroked her silvery wings which glistened gloriously in the sunlight. “Who told you that you have no purpose?”
“No one has to. I just know it. I mean, everyone else seems to be productive. Sheep have wool, cows give milk, chickens lay eggs, bees make honey, chipmunks gather nuts, and dogs are man’s best friend. Everything has a purpose except me!” She wept. “Actually,” she said through her tears, “I don’t even know if butterflies have a purpose!”
“Little one, why are you comparing yourself to others? Do you not know that you are unique?”
“I don’t want to be unique! I want to be like the others!” She cried.
“But, even the others are unique,” he corrected her.
“What?” She had never heard that before. Others were unique too? How could that be? They all seemed normal.
“There is no one who is the same. Each created being is like a snowflake. No one is alike, just like each snowflake is not like another snowflake. No one is normal. All are special,” he explained.
“Really?” She asked and then burst into tears.
After allowing her to cry a minute, he said, “Look at me.” She looked up. “You know what I see when I look at you.” She shook her head. “True beauty. Look at your coloring.” She glanced down at her bright, rich colors. “Are you not as lovely as a flower?” He smiled, and his smile was like balm to her hurting heart. “Butterflies DO have a purpose. They help flowers like bees do, you know, gathering pollen. But, more importantly, they are made to display a vision of heaven to this fallen world. Don’t you know that you are beautiful?”
“I am?” A large tear formed in one of her eyes.
“Yes,” he pointed at her with his other hand, “you are.”
“But,” she puzzled, “what about flying? Aren’t butterflies made to fly?”
“But!” He waved the hand that was not holding her. “You can fly.”
“No, no I…”
“Yes, yes!” He interrupted her. “Yes you can!”
“But, you don’t understand…”
Gently he stopped her once more. “Yes I do. I understand much more than you know.”
“You can fly. I know you can because I CREATED you.”
Her eyes grew wide, and her little mouth dropped open.
“Yes, I created you, and therefore, I know you can fly. Yes, your wings are weaker than other butterflies. I know this.”
She asked, “Why not just make me strong like other butterflies?”
“Everyone, butterflies, dogs, horses, cows, cats, everyone has their own weakness. You think you are the only one with a weakness?”
“Well, you aren’t.”
“Why, why do I and others have weaknesses?”
“So, that you will look to me. You see,” his soft eyes looked deep into her tearful ones, “MY STRENGTH is made PERFECT in weakness. It is when you are weak that I am strong.”
“So, then, you’ll help me?” Her drooping little wings gave a hopeful flutter.
“I am an ever-present help in times of trouble,
the rock of your salvation, your Prince of Peace, Everlasting Father, who will never leave you nor forsake you.
“So, then, you’ll really, really help me fly?” Her wings flapped a bit more.
He grinned. “Absolutely!”
“Wow!” She looked out across the valley below. Was it really possible that she could fly over all that? She felt so weak, so afraid. With the Creator’s help, could she really?
“Now, remember,” he touched her tiny nose, “do not listen to the father of lies anymore.
She tilted her head to the side. “Who is that?”
“He’s right over there. See, at the end of the log?”
She jumped up onto the shoulder of her Creator at the sight of the large snake coiled right beside where she had been sitting before God picked her up into His big, strong hand.
“Yikes! Was he there the whole time?” She shook like a leaf ready to fall from a tree in the fall.
“Yes. He was whispering in your ear, telling you that life was not worth living, telling you through his forked tongue that you had no purpose and might as well give up. He is a liar and the father of lies, seeking to steal, kill and destroy.”
She gasped. “Really? I thought those were my own thoughts!”
“He makes you think that those thoughts are your own,” explained her Creator.
The purple and pink butterfly’s pensive eyes looked into her Creator’s. “But, you don’t lie or destroy.”
“That’s right. I give life. I created you, and you are wonderfully made, crafted by my very hand, breathed upon by my breath of life, and delivered into this world with a special purpose that only you can fulfill.”
A smile, like the rising of the sun over the horizon after a very long, cold night, spread across her lovely face.
“Now, how about a flying lesson!” God chuckled.
“You really think that I can?” She hesitated.
“Well,” his eyes sparkled like a gem in the sun, “only one way to find out!” And with that, he released her into the fragrant springtime air.
She squealed with glee and a bit of fear as she tried out her silvery wings. Though they were both weak from being thin and because of a lack of use, with great gusto she flitted here and there, and with pleasure she landed on several silky, brightly colored flowers.
“Hey! There she is!” She heard two familiar voices approaching from behind her. “We found you!” Exclaimed her sisters. “And you’re flying!!”
Throughout the Butterfly Kingdom all three sisters dodged, darted, and dashed, chasing one another with giggles of glee. Why! They even went out for ice cream sundaes with their mother in celebration.
Though the little purple butterfly with silvery lavender wings grew stronger with time, her wings gave her trouble through her life. At those times when she was completely overwhelmed and did not know if she could go on, she looked to her Creator and said, “Your strength is made perfect in my wings! I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me!” And so she did all things on her silver butterfly wings, and taught others that they too were unique and could do all things through the strength of their Creator. Even today one may catch a glimpse of her flying on the wind, but what is not seen is God’s invisible guiding hand, and her paper thin wings being upheld by His breath.
Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home,
When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.
“Let not your heart be troubled,” His tender word I hear,
And resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears;
Though by the path He leadeth, but one step I may see;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.
Whenever I am tempted, whenever clouds arise,
When songs give place to sighing, when hope within me dies,
I draw the closer to Him, from care He sets me free;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.
I sing because I’m happy,
I sing because I’m free,
For His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.
As Christians we have all had different experiences, different joys, different pains, different disappointments, different regrets, different afflictions, but we all have the same Jesus. We all have experienced ups and downs, highs and lows, sorrows and joys, and through it all Jesus has said, “My Grace is sufficient” (2 Corinthians 12:9). Story after story in the Bible relates to us the incredible trials and successes of believer after believer, from childless Abraham and Sarah who in their old age saw the fulfillment of God’s promise though the birth of their son Isaac (found in the book of Genesis); to Job who lost everything including all seven of his grown children, his wealth, and his joy, but who saw it restored and multiplied in the end (the book of Job); to Paul who was a Hebrew of Hebrews and a well-respected man of standing among the Jews who then for Jesus lost it all, was beaten, went hungry, endured hardships, pain, shipwreck, loneliness, and eventually was martyred for Jesus, and yet before his death saw the Gospel spread throughout the known world because of his labors (2 Corinthians 11). They each had different trials, but they all had the same Lord. And through their stories we can see that God did not leave them comfortless. We also can see through their stories that God comforts us through the stories of their experiences.
And this is still the same for Christians throughout history. Many of the hymns that we sing to the Lord when we gather together were inspired through the trials, tragedy, hardships and grief of their authors. Though not all of us have been through the same experiences, we all have experienced the unending love and incredible mercies of Christ throughout our lives, and have been sweetened by His presence, giving off a fragrant aroma like that of crushed roses.
Now, let’s take a closer look at what a few of the hymn writers have been through, and how their pains and joys still inspire us today as we continue to sing their songs unto the Lord.
“His Eye Is On The Sparrow”
Civilla Martin and her husband became very close to a couple named Mr. and Mrs. Doolittle. Mrs. Doolittle was bedridden 20 years, and Mr. Doolittle wheeled himself to and from work in a wheelchair. Yet, in spite of their great afflictions, they were full of joy and were a comfort for all who knew them. When Mr. Martin asked them what the secret to their cheerfulness was, Mrs. Doolittle responded, “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.” It was through this relationship and because of those words that Civilla Martin penned the inspirational song, “His Eye Is On The Sparrow.”
“Just As I Am”
“Just As I Am” was written by a young woman named Charlotte Elliott. She was an angry, bitter lady, for she had a disability that could not be overcome. Her anger was directed at God, for she felt that God must not love her. Her family wanted to help her, so they invited a Swiss minister to dinner. It was at this dinner that she erupted violently. After her embarrassed family exited the dining room, the minister gently spoke with her. At one point, Charlotte asked him, “If I wanted to become a Christian and to share the peace and joy you possess, what would I do?” To which the minister replied, “You would give yourself to God just as you are now, with your fightings and fears, hates and loves, pride and shame.” Then thoughtfully she inquired, “I would come to God just as I am? Is that right?” And so, she came to believe in Jesus during that heart-to-heart discussion. Later for the sake of her minister brother who was raising funds for a school for poor ministers she wrote a poem that was published entitled, “Just As I Am.” That poem went on to become the most famous hymn in history. Though for the rest of her life she still struggled with her infirmities and disability, she was encouraged by letter after letter sent to her by those who had been profoundly touched by her poem that later became a hymn made popular during the altar call at the Billy Graham crusades.
“He Giveth More Grace”
Annie Johnson Flint was born on Christmas Eve and was to her parents the “greatest earthly gift.” A short 3 years later, Annie would lose her mother who died in childbirth, and a short time after that would also lose her father who had been “suffering from an incurable disease.” Her father, a godly man, willed Annie and her baby sister to a good baptist family named Flint, in order that they be raised in a solidly Christian household. At the age of 8 while attending a revival meeting, she believed in Jesus for herself and was truly converted. She was a cheerful and optimistic child, full of hope and undying faith.
Later, two years into a teaching career, the debilitating affliction of rheumatoid arthritis began to rear its ugly head in her life. On top of this, her sister and her were made orphans again when both of their adoptive parents died within a few short months of each other. The two of them had very little money, but her love of music and poetry became a monetary blessing. “Two card publishers printed some of her greetings and released the first little brochure of her poems,” and through the Sunday School Times she began to correspond with countless hurting people who did not understand what they were enduring. Through the poems and other words that she wrote to them, “she became convinced that God intended to glorify Himself through her in her weak, earthen vessel; and like Paul, she gained real assurance and could say with the apostle, the promise granted to him: “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” She could also say with Paul, “Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” She believed that God had laid her aside for a purpose, even though that purpose was obscure to her at times” (any quotes about Annie Flint are taken from https://hymnary.org/person/Flint_Annie).
“God Leads Us Along”
God Leads Us Along” was written by George A. Young. Not much is known about Young, but what is know is that he was a carpenter and preacher of the Gospel. Researchers believe he more than likely lived between the years 1855-1935, and diligently served the Lord in small rural areas of the United States. Though he held no known huge revival meetings nor had a mega church nor was a popular television preacher, he sought to preach the Gospel wherever he went while at the same time raising his beloved family. After years of scrimping and saving, he and his wife were able to build their own small home. However, not long after the completing of this home, those who hated his message of the Bible burned it down while he was away ministering to others. In 1903 he wrote the words and composed the music to “God Leads Us Along” which depicts a lovely Psalm 23-like pastoral scene with a chorus of profound meaning.
“Around 1942, hymn writer Haldor Lillenas (The Bible Stands; Wonderful Grace of Jesus) decided to track down George Young’s widow, and find out more. He got an address in a small town and, driving there, he stopped at a gas station to ask for directions. When the attendant saw the address, he said, “Why sir, that’s the County Poor House up the road about three miles. And mister, when I say poor house, I really mean poor house!”
Not knowing what to expect, Lillenas made his way there. He found Mrs. Young, a tiny, elderly woman, in surroundings that were far from congenial. However, she radiated the joy of the Lord, and spoke of how He’d guided her and her husband over many years. Then, she exclaimed, “Dr. Lillenas, God led me here!” I’m so glad He did, for you know, about every month someone comes into this place to spend the rest of their days….So many of them don’t know my Jesus. I’m having the time of my life introducing them to Jesus! Dr. Lillenas, isn’t it wonderful how God leads!”” (Al Smith’s Treasury of Hymn Histories, by Alfred B. Smith (Dickinson Press Incorporated, 1981 quoted on https://wordwisehymns.com/2011/12/14/god-leads-us-along/).
We as Christians can know that God cares about us. He did not just care about the Bible story characters nor just about these hymn writers. He cares about us. That’s why these hymns were born. They were born so that we could be comforted through them, inspired through them, be encouraged through them. Psalm 40:5 says, “Many, O LORD my God, are . . . thy thoughts which are to usward: they cannot be reckoned up in order unto thee: if I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered.” Psalm 139:17-18a says, “How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! How great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand…” Not only this, but 1 Peter 5:6-7 says, “Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time: casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you.” So first of all, know that God cares for you!
Furthermore, whether we have been inspired by another’s trial or our own, in good times and joy, in grief and great loss, bitterness and uncertainty and broken dreams, we all like these hymn writers, have a testimony, a story to tell. In 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 we see that God comforts us so that we in turn can comfort others. “3 Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; 4 Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.” Truly, we are to edify one another with songs, hymns and spiritual songs as seen in Ephesians 5:18-21.
So, number one, let’s remember that God cares for each of us individually. Let’s not forget all of His daily benefits (Psalm 68:19)! As it says in Psalm 103:1-6,
“Bless the LORD, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name.
2 Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits:
3 Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases;
4 Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies;
5 Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things; so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
6 The LORD executeth righteousness and judgment for all that are oppressed.”
Let’s also remember that we are here for others as well because God cares for them, and wants to love them through us. As long as we breathe, we have purpose. These hymn writers could easily have given up, but instead they sang a song that is still resonating today, even now in your hearts. We may never write a great hymn nor be famous, but we can still give a word of encouragement or comfort to someone we know. That’s all these hymn writers did at the time. They were not great. They were not famous. They were simply Christians going through trials and tribulations who chose to praise God through the midst of it, and wrote a song, a song which has survived the test of time and still inspires God’s people today. Like crushed roses smell sweeter, even so, may the fragrance of our trials minister to the needs of others. May we not forget that we are the body of Christ, God’s Holy of Holies, and it is our purpose to build up one other and share our stories to encourage and inspire each other to press on. Remember, God cares for us, and therefore, we all have a story to tell!
Morgan, Robert J., Then Sings My Soul, 2006.
Osbeck, Kenneth W., Amazing Grace: 366 Hymn Stories for Personal Devotion, 1990.
Alfred B. Smith, Al Smith’s Treasury of Hymn Histories, Dickinson Press Incorporated, 1981).