We need God, every moment of the day. Unfourtunately we do
not take the time to acknowledge Him. We do not have the time to say a few
words, or we cannot find the right words to say. Luckily God does not
mind when we use the words of others.
They are still worth while.
I Said A Prayer For You Today
I said a prayer for you today
And know God must have heard,
I felt the answer in my heart
Although He spoke not a word.
I didn't ask for wealth or fame
(I knew you wouldn't mind)
I asked Him to send treasures
Of a far more lasting kind.
I prayed that He'd be near you
At the start of each new day,
To grant you health and blessings
And friends to share your way.
I asked for happiness for you
In all things great and small
But it was for His loving care
I prayed for most of all.
The Difference
I got up early one morning
And rushed right into the day;
I had so much to accomplish
That I didn't have time to pray.
Problems just tumbled about me,
And heavier came each task,
"Why doesn't God help me?" I wondered.
He answered, "You didn't ask."
I wanted to see joy and beauty,
But the day toiled on, gray and bleak;
I wondered why God didn't show me,
He said, "But you didn't seek."
I tried to come into God's presence;
I used all my keys at the lock.
God gently and lovingly chided,
"My child, you didn't knock."
I woke up early this morning, and
Paused before entering the day;
I had so much to accomplish
That I had to take time to pray.
HE Makes No Mistake
My Father's way may twist and turn,
My heart may throb and ache;
But in my soul I'm glad to know
He makes no mistake.
My cherished plans may go astray,
My hopes may fade away;
But still I'll trust my Lord to lead,
For He does know the way.
Though night be dark and it may seem
That day will never break,
I'll pin my faith, my all, on Him;
He makes no mistake.
There's so much now I cannot see,
My eyesight's far too dim;
But come what may, I'll simply trust
And leave it all to Him.
For by and by the mist will lift,
And plain it all He'll make;
Through all the way, though dark to me,
He made not one mistake.
Touch Of The Master's Hand
'Twas battered and scarred and the auctioneer
Thought it was scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin
But he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who'll start the bidding for me?
A dollar, a dollar -- now who'll make it two --
Two dollars and who'll make it three?
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice,
Going for three" ... but no!
From the room far back a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening up all the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet,
As sweet as an angel sings.
The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said: "What am I bidden for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow;
"A thousand dollars -- who'll make it two?
Two thousand -- and who'll make it three?
Three thousand once, three thousand twice
And going -- and gone," said he.
The people cheered but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand --
What changed its worth?" The man replied:
"The touch of the Master's hand."
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and torn with sin,
is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd.
Much like the old violin.
A "mess of pottage," a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on,
He's going once, and going twice --
He's going and almost gone!
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd,
Never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul, and the change that's wrought
By the touch of the Master's hand.
by Myrna Brooks Welch
