The Service Of The Lord

The Service Of The Lord





I love being in the service of the Lord.

I may not be a missionary, a Bible study leader, or a prophet.

but, I love being in the service of the Lord.

My ministry consists of my home and neighbors,

and I love being in the service of the Lord.

I may not be a minister to the poor or the mentally distressed,

but I love being in the service of the Lord.

I love to encourage others as they walk along the same path.

and I love being in the service of the Lord.

I thrive from moments spent in His loving word,

and I love being in the service of the Lord.

Wherever He places me, I shall go, joyfully pondering each monent along the way.

And, I love being in the service of the Lord.

--Ellie Arnatt

Psalm 23

A psalm of David.

"The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,

he restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.

Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever."



~*~Courtney~*~

Poetry meant to inspire...

To hold you over until the Stay-At-Home Daughters can get back to writing after the Thanksgiving holiday, here is a poem taken from 'Verses of Virtue.'


What does out country need? Not armies standing
With sabers gleaming ready for the fight;
Not increased navies, skillful and commanding,
To bound the waters with an iron might;
Not haughty men with glutted purses trying
To purchase souls, and keep the power of place;
Not jeweled dolls with one another vying
For palms of beauty, elegance, and grace.

But we want women, strong of soul, yet lowly
With that rare meekness, born of gentleness;
Women whose lives are pure and clean and holy,
The women whom all little children bless;
Brave, earnest women, helpful to each other,
With finest scorn for all things low and mean;
Women who hold the names of wife and mother
Far nobler than the title of a queen.

Oh! These are they who mould the men of story,
These mothers, ofttime shorn of grace and youth,
Who, worn and weary, ask no greater glory
Than making some young soul the home of truth;
Who sow in hearts all fallow for the sowing
The seeds of virtue and of scorn for sin,
And, patient, watch the beauteous harvest growing
And weed out tares which crafty hands cast in.

Women who do not hold the gift of beauty
As some rare treasure to be bought and sold,
But guard it as a precious aid to duty-
The outer framing of the inner gold;
Women who, low above their cradles bending,
Let flattery's voice go by, and give no heed,
While their pure prayers like incense are ascending
These are our country's pride, our country's need.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox