I knelt to pray when day was done

And prayed, "O lord, bless everyone,

Lift from each saddened heart the pain

And let the sick be well again".

And then I woke another day

And carelessly went on my way.

The whole day long I did not try

To wipe a tear from any eye.

I did not try to share the load

Of any brother on the road

I did not even go to see

The sick man just next door to me.

Yet once again when day was done

I prayed, "O Lord, bless everyone"

But as I prayed, into my ear

There came a voice that whispered clear.

"Pause now, my child, before you pray,

Whom have you tried to bless today?

God’s sweetest blessings always go

By hand that serve Him here below".

And then I hid my face and cried

"Forgive me God, I have not tried,

But let me live another day

And I will live the way I pray".

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I’m writing a poem without any rhymes

But I’ve had to re-do it just dozens of goes

Imagine my anger, my terrible rage

As the rhymes just keep jumping right on to the sheet.

No sooner is one line put in its place

Than the next comes along, stares me right in the eye.

Saying "Now that you’ve finished that bit of the text

You’ve got to have me, can’t you see that I’m here?"

I try for impossible words like ‘cucumber’

But they overhear and awake from their snoozing.

I reach out for artichoke, porridge or sago

But I find the gyrations just give me arthritis.

No matter what your troubles are

No difference large or small

Each upset that may come your way

Each time you slightly fall

The smallest fear you’ve had

Is always known to God.

Each step you’ve walked He’s counted

On every road you’ve trod

So never feel that you’re alone

When shadows cloud your day

But speak His name and you will see,

He’s just a prayer away.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

HOW CAN I ENDURE?

Lord, how can I endure this life of sorrow, unless you strengthen me with your mercy and grace. Do not turn your face from me. Do not withdraw your consolation from me, lest my soul becomes like a waterless desert. Teach me, O Lord, to do your will, and to live humbly. You alone know me perfectly, seeing into my soul. You alone can give lasting peace and joy.

Would you reap a good harvest?

Then take care where you sow;

Let love be the seed you’re planting,

Do not let hatred grow.

Sow seeds of good will and kindness

And peace with healing leaves;

Then at the time of reaping

You’ll gather golden sheaves.

Anon

* * * * * * * * * * * *

At Wimbledon, LOVE means nothing; at church, LOVE means everything.

Opportunity is missed by most people because it comes dressed in overalls and looks like work. (Thomas Edison)

Children are a great comfort in your old age – and they help you to reach it faster too!

How do you decide how much to give? Give God what’s right – not what’s left.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

A bus stop was sited close to a church which had a wayside pulpit notice board on which was boldly questioned…..

WHERE WILL YOU BE ON JUDGEMENT DAY ?

Underneath someone had written…..

STILL WAITING FOR A NUMBER 17 BUS.