The Refiner's Fire

He sat by a fire of seven-fold heat,
As He watched by the precious ore.
And closer He bent with a searching gaze
As He heated it more and more.

He knew He had ore that could stand the test,
And He wanted the finest gold
To mold as a crown for the King to wear,
Set with gems with a price untold.

So He laid our gold in the burning fire,
Tho' we fain would have said him 'Nay',
And He watched the dross that we had not seen,
As it melted and passed away.

And the gold grew brighter and yet more bright,
But our eyes were so dim with tears,
We saw but the fire - not the Master's hand,
And questioned with anxious fears.

Yet our gold shone out with a richer glow,
As it mirrored a Form above,
That bent o'er the fire, tho' unseen by us,
With a look of ineffable Love.

Can we think that it pleases His loving heart
To cause us a moments' pain?
Ah, no! but He saw through the present cross
The bliss of eternal gain.

So He waited there with a watchful eye.
With a love that is strong and sure,
And His gold did not suffer a bit more heat,
Than was needed to make it pure."

-Author Unkown
From "Streams in the Dessert" By Mrs. Chas Cowman

My Mother

My Mother, God's Jewel

My mother does not work "out there"

But in the home is her lair.

At night when others sleep at ease,

My mother is on her knees.

Others call her work slavery,

She calls it blessed and is rejoicing.

They call her deceived,

She responds that she is free!

No praise from this sin sick world she gets,

But her children rise up and call her blessed.

She may not be sung as mighty in the land,

But she has a Heavenly Father who is glad.

When she is singing in the kitchen,

God's name is glorified.

His daughter is fulfilling her role,

And He has made her His jewel.

Thank you Lord for my godly mother!

I love you Mamma!

For the Wanderer

Thou who makest intercession,
Give to us to share
In that holy intercession;
Deepen prayer.

Some have chosen dust and ashes,
Fruit of poison tree;
Let them have nor peace nor pleasure,
Wanting Thee.

Let Thy fiery Law arrest them;
Let Thy love constrain,
Till they turn, repentant, humbly,
Home again.

Keep Thine own alert, courageous;
Strengthen them to stand
Till Thou comest, or we meet them,
In Thy land.
-Amy Carmichael

A Prayer in Poem

For the Wanderer

Thou who makest intercession,

Give to us to share

In that holy intercession;

Deepen prayer.

Some have chosen dust and ashes,

Fruit of poison tree;

Let them have nor peace nor pleasure,

Wanting Thee.

Let Thy fiery Law arrest them;

Let They love constrain,

Till they turn, repentant, humbly,

Home again.

Keep Thine own alert, courageous;

Strengthen them to stand

Till Thou comest, or we meet them,

In Thy land.

--Amy Carmichael