Wednesday, March 9, 2011

The Vine

A vision.

There was once a clinging vine upon a circle of trees,
Forming an arbor as it grasped with its tendrils their twigs and leaves,

Contented was the lovely vine, supported by  these trees,
Beautiful, graceful, surely this was as the vine was meant to be.

But then the trees began to shake with a strong and rushing wind,
The vine was shaken to the ground but clung to a few of the lower limbs.

A few tendrils still held to the only support they had known,
As though they would climb again just like the wind had never blown.

But even this tenacious attempt was met with utter defeat,
Man came and pulled down the last stands of the vine and it lay broken at their feet.

No longer did the fair vine grow up the trees to the sky,
It seemed all happy days were gone; the vine must surely die.

Many travelers past that way; they saw the vine would they lend a hand?
No, none raised it up or helped it grow, Does anyone understand?

Presently an angel came and stood next to the deserted vine,
He raised the vine up in his arms, all was part of a larger design.

He pointed it upright saying, "Stand toward the sky and leave the sod,
Stretch heavenward and let thy tendrils entwine about God.

"Thou art shaken from earthly support but thou canst stand in the strength of God,
And flourish without it-Rest thou only on Thy God.

"Lean on Him, thy God alone and Thou shalt never lean in vain
Or be shaken therefrom, and there's peace you can't explain."

"I felt inexpressible relief, amounting to joy, as I saw the neglected vine cared for. I turned to the angel and inquired what these things meant. Said he: "Thou art this vine. All this thou wilt experience, and then, when these things occur, thou shalt fully understand the figure of the vine. God will be to thee a present help in time of trouble."    

Partly quoted from Testimonies to the Church, Volume 1, p. 584. 

Friday, March 4, 2011

Peace, Be Still

Oh crashing waves of fear and strife,
Why should I tremble at your will,
My Savior guards over my life,

Peace, be still.

Oh fitful waves of changing moods,
Why should I let you have my will?
Faith sees past the clear or clouds,
Peace, be still.

Oh glass topped waves of tempting things,
All my need my Savior fills,
Why should I give Him up for Thee?
Peace, be still.

In my boat the Master sleeps,
But still he His vigil keeps,
And not a drop of guilt or fear,
Not a tremor nor a tear,
No temptation, not a cloud,
Not a clap of thunder loud,
Come, but He can hold me fast,
Till the morning comes at last.

So come whatever may and will,
Jesus whispers, "Peace, be still."