Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Prayer
Father, I praise You because You alone are worthy of praise. When I am still, I remember You--that You are the great I AM, who was there for Abraham and Moses, and You are still there for me. What a privilege to know You. Even greater still to known by You. Help me to see Your Hand in the details. And when life seems to be out of control, help me to rememeber the quiet times, and to know that You have been and always will be Lord of all.
Thoughts
Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth! Psalm 46:10
The sun is peeking through the cracks in the shade. I hear the first few birds, heralding the new day's dawn. My eyes are closed, but my mind is at work.
It is here, in the quiet calm before the day's hustle and bustle begins, that I give the day to God. Before my feet even touch the floor, I have met with my Maker in my mind, handing over to Him each event that the coming day holds. It is a moment of transcedent peace that floods my soul and keeps me singing the rest of the day through.
Do you feel stressed? Are life's worries warping your joy? Are you in such a hurry that you've lost sight of what's most important? Then stop. Be still. In the silence, seek Him. Know Him. Know that He alone controls every moment of your day. He ordains all the challenges you will face. And He holds the solution: Himself. As you sit at His feet, feel the weight of the world lift from your shoulders. Let His love rain down and nourish the parched places of your soul. Then rejoice in song because He has set you free. He will be exalted among the nations, among your family members, and in your heart. He will be exalted in the earth!
The sun is peeking through the cracks in the shade. I hear the first few birds, heralding the new day's dawn. My eyes are closed, but my mind is at work.
It is here, in the quiet calm before the day's hustle and bustle begins, that I give the day to God. Before my feet even touch the floor, I have met with my Maker in my mind, handing over to Him each event that the coming day holds. It is a moment of transcedent peace that floods my soul and keeps me singing the rest of the day through.
Do you feel stressed? Are life's worries warping your joy? Are you in such a hurry that you've lost sight of what's most important? Then stop. Be still. In the silence, seek Him. Know Him. Know that He alone controls every moment of your day. He ordains all the challenges you will face. And He holds the solution: Himself. As you sit at His feet, feel the weight of the world lift from your shoulders. Let His love rain down and nourish the parched places of your soul. Then rejoice in song because He has set you free. He will be exalted among the nations, among your family members, and in your heart. He will be exalted in the earth!
Word of the Day
"Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption" (I. Cor. 1: 30).
More and more we are coming to see the supreme importance of getting the right conception of sanctification, not as a blessing, but as a personal union with the personal Saviour and the indwelling Holy Spirit. Thousands of people get stranded after they have embarked on the great voyage of holiness.
They find themselves failing and falling, and are astonished and perplexed, and they conclude that they must have been mistaken in their experience, and so they make a new attempt at the same thing and again fall, until at last, worn out with the experiment, they conclude that the experience is a delusion, or, at least, that it was never intended for them, and so they fall back into the old way, and their last state is worse than their first.
What people need to-day to satisfy their deep hunger and to give them a permanent and Divine experience is to know, not sanctification as a state, but Christ as a living Person, who is waiting to enter the heart that is willing to receive Him.
More and more we are coming to see the supreme importance of getting the right conception of sanctification, not as a blessing, but as a personal union with the personal Saviour and the indwelling Holy Spirit. Thousands of people get stranded after they have embarked on the great voyage of holiness.
They find themselves failing and falling, and are astonished and perplexed, and they conclude that they must have been mistaken in their experience, and so they make a new attempt at the same thing and again fall, until at last, worn out with the experiment, they conclude that the experience is a delusion, or, at least, that it was never intended for them, and so they fall back into the old way, and their last state is worse than their first.
What people need to-day to satisfy their deep hunger and to give them a permanent and Divine experience is to know, not sanctification as a state, but Christ as a living Person, who is waiting to enter the heart that is willing to receive Him.
Christian Poem
The gliding years have rolled along,
And once again we come,
With greeting hand and choral song,
To our old college-home;--
Sweet college-home! dear college-home!
We gladly gather here,
Old friends to greet,
Old faces meet,
And sing our songs of cheer!
A welcome true for those we meet,
For those we miss, a sigh;
Of some we ne'er again may greet,
We speak with tearful eye;
Some rest with God, whose feet once trod
These halls with ours of yore;
And some there are
Who wander far
On many a distant shore!
God, bless and keep the ones who roam,
And us who meet again;
And lit us each for that bright home
Where comes no parting pain;--
Oh, aid us still, thro' good or ill
Still earnest for the right,
With spirits true,
To dare and do,
With Heaven and thee in sight!
And as the lingering years go by,
And changeful seasons come,
Still let thine eye rest lovingly
On this old college-home;--
Sweet college-home! dear college-home!
We gladly gather here,
Old friends to meet,
Old faces greet,
And sing our songs of cheer! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
And once again we come,
With greeting hand and choral song,
To our old college-home;--
Sweet college-home! dear college-home!
We gladly gather here,
Old friends to greet,
Old faces meet,
And sing our songs of cheer!
A welcome true for those we meet,
For those we miss, a sigh;
Of some we ne'er again may greet,
We speak with tearful eye;
Some rest with God, whose feet once trod
These halls with ours of yore;
And some there are
Who wander far
On many a distant shore!
God, bless and keep the ones who roam,
And us who meet again;
And lit us each for that bright home
Where comes no parting pain;--
Oh, aid us still, thro' good or ill
Still earnest for the right,
With spirits true,
To dare and do,
With Heaven and thee in sight!
And as the lingering years go by,
And changeful seasons come,
Still let thine eye rest lovingly
On this old college-home;--
Sweet college-home! dear college-home!
We gladly gather here,
Old friends to meet,
Old faces greet,
And sing our songs of cheer! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Recipe of the day
Tropical NOT-A-Colada Recipes
Drink with NO ALCOHOL
Try an non-alcoholic cocktails on this holiday season. A best choice for non-drinking people.
Ingredients
¾ cup unsweetened pineapple juice
½ banana
2 to 3 packets of sweetener
1 teaspoon lime juice
¼ teaspoon coconut extract
3 to 4 ice cubes
Directions
1. Combine ingredients in blender.
2. Blend on high for 30 seconds, until smooth and creamy.
3. Pour into fancy glass and serve with straw.
Drink with NO ALCOHOL
Try an non-alcoholic cocktails on this holiday season. A best choice for non-drinking people.
Ingredients
¾ cup unsweetened pineapple juice
½ banana
2 to 3 packets of sweetener
1 teaspoon lime juice
¼ teaspoon coconut extract
3 to 4 ice cubes
Directions
1. Combine ingredients in blender.
2. Blend on high for 30 seconds, until smooth and creamy.
3. Pour into fancy glass and serve with straw.
Joke of the Day
A large, well established, Canadian lumber camp advertised that they were looking for a good Lumberjack. The very next day, a skinny little man showed up at the camp with his axe, and knocked on the head lumberjacks' door.
The head lumberjack took one look at the little man and told him to leave. "Just give me a chance to show you what I can do," said the skinny man.
"Okay, see that giant redwood over there?" said the lumberjack. "Take your axe and go cut it down."
The skinny man headed for the tree, and in five minutes he was back knocking on the lumberjack's door.
"I cut the tree down," said the man. The lumberjack couldn't believe his eyes and said, "Where did you get the skill to chop down trees like that?"
"In the Sahara Forest," replied the puny man.
"You mean the Sahara Desert," said the lumberjack.
The little man laughed and answered back, "Oh sure, that's what they call it now!"
The head lumberjack took one look at the little man and told him to leave. "Just give me a chance to show you what I can do," said the skinny man.
"Okay, see that giant redwood over there?" said the lumberjack. "Take your axe and go cut it down."
The skinny man headed for the tree, and in five minutes he was back knocking on the lumberjack's door.
"I cut the tree down," said the man. The lumberjack couldn't believe his eyes and said, "Where did you get the skill to chop down trees like that?"
"In the Sahara Forest," replied the puny man.
"You mean the Sahara Desert," said the lumberjack.
The little man laughed and answered back, "Oh sure, that's what they call it now!"
Monday, August 30, 2010
Joke of the Day
A strong young man at the construction site was bragging that he could outdo anyone in a feat of strength. He made a special case of making fun of Morris, one of the older workmen. After several minutes, Morris had enough.
"Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?" he said. "I will bet a week's wages that I can haul something in a wheelbarrow over to that outbuilding that you won't be able to wheel back."
"You're on, old man," the braggart replied. "It's a bet! Let's see what you got."
Morris reached out and grabbed the wheelbarrow by the handles. Then, nodding to the young man, he said, "All right. Get in."
"Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?" he said. "I will bet a week's wages that I can haul something in a wheelbarrow over to that outbuilding that you won't be able to wheel back."
"You're on, old man," the braggart replied. "It's a bet! Let's see what you got."
Morris reached out and grabbed the wheelbarrow by the handles. Then, nodding to the young man, he said, "All right. Get in."
Recipe of the day
Rocky road bars
4 4 1/2 oz. milk chocolate bars
1 pkg. hershey milk chocolate chips
3 cups tiny marshmallows
3/4 cup chopped walnuts
Melt in double boiler, over hot, not boiling
water, the candy bars and chips. Stir until
smooth and glossy. Pour over the
marshmallows and nuts mixed in a large bowl
and mix very good, until all are coated. Press
into a well buttered pan. Cut when cool. This
takes a long time to set so have patience.
4 4 1/2 oz. milk chocolate bars
1 pkg. hershey milk chocolate chips
3 cups tiny marshmallows
3/4 cup chopped walnuts
Melt in double boiler, over hot, not boiling
water, the candy bars and chips. Stir until
smooth and glossy. Pour over the
marshmallows and nuts mixed in a large bowl
and mix very good, until all are coated. Press
into a well buttered pan. Cut when cool. This
takes a long time to set so have patience.
Quote of the day
"There is nothing more certain than death; nothing more uncertain than the time of dying. I will therefore be prepared for that at all times which may come at any time, must come at one time or another. I shall not hasten my death by being still ready, but sweeten it. It makes me not die the sooner, but the better."
Christian Poem
"Giving up three for one!"--mother,
You said in the long ago,
When father, yourself, and John, mother,
I left, o'er the deep to go.
"Giving up three for one!"--mother,
You said, and it sank in my heart;
For tho' strong was my love for the one, mother,
It was hard from the three to part.
But to-day, as I sit alone, mother,
Rocking my little one's bed--
(Not Winnie's bed, dear, but her brother's--)
I am thinking of what you said;
And a sweet thought glads my heart, mother--
Can you guess what the thought can be?
'Tis, that tho' I'd but one in the start, mother,
Yet now I have three for three.
Yes, three for three, my mother,
God is good to your wandering child,
So far from her father and brother,
And you, in this western wild!
And tho' her heart oftentimes yearneth
For its loved ones over the sea,
Yet ever it gratefully turneth
To its home-ties--three for three.
Aye, three for three, sweet mother,
Say, am I not happy to-day?
Tho' something must ever be wanting,
While far from you all away;--
Then thank the dear Lord, my mother,
Who, afar o'er the lonely sea,
Is blessing your absent daughter,
With home ties--three for three! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
You said in the long ago,
When father, yourself, and John, mother,
I left, o'er the deep to go.
"Giving up three for one!"--mother,
You said, and it sank in my heart;
For tho' strong was my love for the one, mother,
It was hard from the three to part.
But to-day, as I sit alone, mother,
Rocking my little one's bed--
(Not Winnie's bed, dear, but her brother's--)
I am thinking of what you said;
And a sweet thought glads my heart, mother--
Can you guess what the thought can be?
'Tis, that tho' I'd but one in the start, mother,
Yet now I have three for three.
Yes, three for three, my mother,
God is good to your wandering child,
So far from her father and brother,
And you, in this western wild!
And tho' her heart oftentimes yearneth
For its loved ones over the sea,
Yet ever it gratefully turneth
To its home-ties--three for three.
Aye, three for three, sweet mother,
Say, am I not happy to-day?
Tho' something must ever be wanting,
While far from you all away;--
Then thank the dear Lord, my mother,
Who, afar o'er the lonely sea,
Is blessing your absent daughter,
With home ties--three for three! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Recipe of the day
Beef never-enoff
2 1/2 lbs. sirloin sliced thin
1/4 cup butter
1 8 oz. can mushrooms
1/2 cup red wine
dash worcestershire sauce
wide noodles
2 med. onions, chopped
1 4oz. can tomato sauce
1 tbsp. mustard
2 tbsp brown sugar
1 cup sour cream
salt,pepper, garlic and seasoned salt
Melt butter in heavy fry pan. Saute
onions until light brown. Remove from pan.
Cut steak into thin strips, across the grain
and place in pan to brown. When meat is
browned add remaining ingredients, except
for sour cream and mushrooms. Cook
slowly for 1 hour or until meat is tender.
Add mushrooms and sour cream and
continue cooking 20-30 minutes until
everything is tender. Serve over wide
noodles with a green vegetable and a salad.
For even redder sauce, add 2 tbsp. tomato
paste and 2 tbsp. paprika while cooking.
2 1/2 lbs. sirloin sliced thin
1/4 cup butter
1 8 oz. can mushrooms
1/2 cup red wine
dash worcestershire sauce
wide noodles
2 med. onions, chopped
1 4oz. can tomato sauce
1 tbsp. mustard
2 tbsp brown sugar
1 cup sour cream
salt,pepper, garlic and seasoned salt
Melt butter in heavy fry pan. Saute
onions until light brown. Remove from pan.
Cut steak into thin strips, across the grain
and place in pan to brown. When meat is
browned add remaining ingredients, except
for sour cream and mushrooms. Cook
slowly for 1 hour or until meat is tender.
Add mushrooms and sour cream and
continue cooking 20-30 minutes until
everything is tender. Serve over wide
noodles with a green vegetable and a salad.
For even redder sauce, add 2 tbsp. tomato
paste and 2 tbsp. paprika while cooking.
Quote of the day
"We need a baptism of clear seeing. We desperately need seers who can see through the mist--Christian leaders with prophetic vision. Unless they come soon it will be too late for this generation. And if they do come we will no doubt crucify a few of them in the name of our worldly orthodoxy."
Christian Poem
Eloise! Eloise!
It is morn on the seas,
And the waters are curling and flashing;
And our rock-sheltered seat,
Where the waves ever beat
With a cadenced and rhythmical dashing,
Is here--just here,
But I miss thee, dear!
And the sun-beams around me are flashing
O seat, by the lonely sea,
O seat, that she shared with me,
Thou art all unfilled to day!
And the plaintive, grieving main
Hath a moan of hopeless pain
That it had not yesterday.
Eloise! Eloise!
It is noon; and the breeze
Through the shadowy woodland is straying;
And our green, mossy seat,
Where the flowers kissed thy feet
While the zephyrs around thee were playing,
Is here--just here;
But I miss thee, dear!
And the breezes around me are straying.
O seat, by the greenwood tree,
O seat, that she shared with me,
Thou art all unfilled to-day!
And the sighing, shivering leaves
Have a voice like one that grieves
That they had not yesterday.
Eloise! Eloise!
It is eve; and the trees
With the gold of the sunset are glowing;
And our low, grassy seat,
With the brook at its feet
Ever singing, and rippling, and flowing,
Is here--just here;
But I miss thee, dear!
And the sunset is over me glowing.
O seat, by the brooklet free,
O seat, that she shared with me,
Thou art all unfilled to-day!
And the brook, to me alone,
Hath a tender, grieving tone,
That it had not yesterday.
Eloise! Eloise!
It is night on the seas,
And the winds and the waters are sleeping;
And the seat where we prayed,
'Neath our home's blessed shade,
With the soft shadows over us creeping,
Is here-just here;
But I miss thee, dear!
And the drear night around me is sleeping.
O seat, where she prayed of yore,
O seat, where she prays no more,
I am kneeling alone to-night!
And the stern, unyielding grave
Will restore not the gift I gave
To its bosom yesternight. - Mrs. J. C. Yule
It is morn on the seas,
And the waters are curling and flashing;
And our rock-sheltered seat,
Where the waves ever beat
With a cadenced and rhythmical dashing,
Is here--just here,
But I miss thee, dear!
And the sun-beams around me are flashing
O seat, by the lonely sea,
O seat, that she shared with me,
Thou art all unfilled to day!
And the plaintive, grieving main
Hath a moan of hopeless pain
That it had not yesterday.
Eloise! Eloise!
It is noon; and the breeze
Through the shadowy woodland is straying;
And our green, mossy seat,
Where the flowers kissed thy feet
While the zephyrs around thee were playing,
Is here--just here;
But I miss thee, dear!
And the breezes around me are straying.
O seat, by the greenwood tree,
O seat, that she shared with me,
Thou art all unfilled to-day!
And the sighing, shivering leaves
Have a voice like one that grieves
That they had not yesterday.
Eloise! Eloise!
It is eve; and the trees
With the gold of the sunset are glowing;
And our low, grassy seat,
With the brook at its feet
Ever singing, and rippling, and flowing,
Is here--just here;
But I miss thee, dear!
And the sunset is over me glowing.
O seat, by the brooklet free,
O seat, that she shared with me,
Thou art all unfilled to-day!
And the brook, to me alone,
Hath a tender, grieving tone,
That it had not yesterday.
Eloise! Eloise!
It is night on the seas,
And the winds and the waters are sleeping;
And the seat where we prayed,
'Neath our home's blessed shade,
With the soft shadows over us creeping,
Is here-just here;
But I miss thee, dear!
And the drear night around me is sleeping.
O seat, where she prayed of yore,
O seat, where she prays no more,
I am kneeling alone to-night!
And the stern, unyielding grave
Will restore not the gift I gave
To its bosom yesternight. - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Joke of the Day
A blonde was recently hired at an office. Her first task was to go out for coffee. Eager to do well her first day on the job, she grabbed a large thermos and hurried to a nearby coffee shop.
She held up the thermos and the coffee shop worker quickly came over to take her order. She asked, "Is this big enough to hold six cups of coffee?"
The coffee shop worker looked at the thermos, hesitated a few seconds, then finally replied, "Yeah. It looks like about six cups to me."
"Oh good!" the blonde sighed in relief. "Then give me two regular, two black, and two decaf."
She held up the thermos and the coffee shop worker quickly came over to take her order. She asked, "Is this big enough to hold six cups of coffee?"
The coffee shop worker looked at the thermos, hesitated a few seconds, then finally replied, "Yeah. It looks like about six cups to me."
"Oh good!" the blonde sighed in relief. "Then give me two regular, two black, and two decaf."
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Christian Poem
Good night! good night!--the golden day
Has veiled its sunset beam,
And twilight's star its beauteous ray
Has mirrored in the stream;--
Low voices come from vale and height,
And murmur soft, good night! good night!
Good night!--the bee with folded wings
Sleeps sweet in honeyed flowers,
And far away the night-bird sings
In dreamy forest bowers,
And slowly fades the western light
In deepening shade,--good night! good night!
Good night! good night!--in whispers low
The ling'ring zephyr sighs,
And softly, in its dreamy flow,
The murm'ring brook replies;
And, where yon casement still is bright,
A softer voice has breathed good-night!
Good night!--as steals the cooling dew
Where the young violet lies,
E'en so may slumber steal anew
To weary human eyes,
And softly steep the aching sight
In dewy rest--good night! good night! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Has veiled its sunset beam,
And twilight's star its beauteous ray
Has mirrored in the stream;--
Low voices come from vale and height,
And murmur soft, good night! good night!
Good night!--the bee with folded wings
Sleeps sweet in honeyed flowers,
And far away the night-bird sings
In dreamy forest bowers,
And slowly fades the western light
In deepening shade,--good night! good night!
Good night! good night!--in whispers low
The ling'ring zephyr sighs,
And softly, in its dreamy flow,
The murm'ring brook replies;
And, where yon casement still is bright,
A softer voice has breathed good-night!
Good night!--as steals the cooling dew
Where the young violet lies,
E'en so may slumber steal anew
To weary human eyes,
And softly steep the aching sight
In dewy rest--good night! good night! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Joke of the Day
A blonde walks into a store and says to the store keeper, "Do you have any grapes?"
The store keeper replies, "No, I don't." So the blonde leaves.
She comes back the next day and says, "Do you have any grapes?"
The store keeper says, "NO! I don't have any grapes! Stop asking me!" So the blonde leaves.
She comes back the next day and says, "Do you have any grapes?"
"I DON"T HAVE ANY GRAPES! If you ask me one more time, I'm going to nail you to the wall!" So the blonde leaves.
She comes back the next day and says, "Do you have any nails?"
"No."
"Do you have any grapes?"
The store keeper replies, "No, I don't." So the blonde leaves.
She comes back the next day and says, "Do you have any grapes?"
The store keeper says, "NO! I don't have any grapes! Stop asking me!" So the blonde leaves.
She comes back the next day and says, "Do you have any grapes?"
"I DON"T HAVE ANY GRAPES! If you ask me one more time, I'm going to nail you to the wall!" So the blonde leaves.
She comes back the next day and says, "Do you have any nails?"
"No."
"Do you have any grapes?"
Recipe of the day
Cashew Chicken with Stir-fried Vegetables Recipes
For the chicken:
450g/1lb boneless chicken breasts, skinned
1 egg white
1 tsp salt
2 tsp cornflour
310ml/11oz groundnut (or peanut) oil or water
2 tsp groundnut (or peanut) oil
55g/2oz cashew nuts
1 tbsp shaoxing rice wine or dry sherry
1 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tbsp spring onions, finely chopped, for garnish
For the vegetables:
225g/8oz bean sprouts
110g/4oz red or green chillies
225g/8oz water chestnuts, peeled if fresh, rinsed if canned
2 tbsp groundnut oil
1? tbsp garlic, finely chopped
2 tsp fresh ginger, finely chopped
6 spring onions, shredded
1 tsp salt
? tsp freshly ground white pepper
2 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tbsp dark soy sauce
2 tsp whole yellowbean sauce
2 tbsp shaoxing rice wine or dry sherry
5 tbsp chicken stock or water
Directions
1. Cut the chicken into 1cm/?in cubes. Mix with the egg white, salt and cornflour in a small bowl and put in the refrigerator for 20 minutes.
2. Heat a wok or large frying pan until very hot. Add the oil and when it is very hot and slightly smoking remove the wok from the heat. Immediately add the chicken, stirring vigorously to prevent it from sticking. After about 2 minutes when the chicken turns white, drain the chicken and all the oil in a stainless steel colander set in a bowl. Discard the oil. (If you use water instead of oil, bring it to a boil in a saucepan. Remove from the heat and immediately add the chicken, stirring vigorously to prevent it from sticking. After about 2 minutes when the chicken turns white, drain into a stainless steel colander set in a bowl. Discard the water.)
3. If you have used the wok or pan, wipe it clean. Heat it until it is very hot, add 2 tbsp oil and the cashew nuts and stir-fry them for 1 minute. Add the rest of the ingredients. Return the chicken to the wok and stir-fry the mixture for another 2 minutes.
4. Make the vegetables: trim the bean sprouts at both ends. Finely shred the chillies and the water chestnuts.
5. Heat a wok or large frying pan until it is very hot. Add the oil and when it is very hot and slightly smoking, add the garlic, ginger and spring onions and stir fry for 15 seconds. Then add the bean sprouts, shredded chillies and shredded water chestnuts and stir fry for about 1 minutes. Then add the rest of the ingredients and stir-fry for about 3 minutes until it is well mixed and heated through. Serve at once with some steamed rice and the chicken garnished with the spring onions.
For the chicken:
450g/1lb boneless chicken breasts, skinned
1 egg white
1 tsp salt
2 tsp cornflour
310ml/11oz groundnut (or peanut) oil or water
2 tsp groundnut (or peanut) oil
55g/2oz cashew nuts
1 tbsp shaoxing rice wine or dry sherry
1 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tbsp spring onions, finely chopped, for garnish
For the vegetables:
225g/8oz bean sprouts
110g/4oz red or green chillies
225g/8oz water chestnuts, peeled if fresh, rinsed if canned
2 tbsp groundnut oil
1? tbsp garlic, finely chopped
2 tsp fresh ginger, finely chopped
6 spring onions, shredded
1 tsp salt
? tsp freshly ground white pepper
2 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tbsp dark soy sauce
2 tsp whole yellowbean sauce
2 tbsp shaoxing rice wine or dry sherry
5 tbsp chicken stock or water
Directions
1. Cut the chicken into 1cm/?in cubes. Mix with the egg white, salt and cornflour in a small bowl and put in the refrigerator for 20 minutes.
2. Heat a wok or large frying pan until very hot. Add the oil and when it is very hot and slightly smoking remove the wok from the heat. Immediately add the chicken, stirring vigorously to prevent it from sticking. After about 2 minutes when the chicken turns white, drain the chicken and all the oil in a stainless steel colander set in a bowl. Discard the oil. (If you use water instead of oil, bring it to a boil in a saucepan. Remove from the heat and immediately add the chicken, stirring vigorously to prevent it from sticking. After about 2 minutes when the chicken turns white, drain into a stainless steel colander set in a bowl. Discard the water.)
3. If you have used the wok or pan, wipe it clean. Heat it until it is very hot, add 2 tbsp oil and the cashew nuts and stir-fry them for 1 minute. Add the rest of the ingredients. Return the chicken to the wok and stir-fry the mixture for another 2 minutes.
4. Make the vegetables: trim the bean sprouts at both ends. Finely shred the chillies and the water chestnuts.
5. Heat a wok or large frying pan until it is very hot. Add the oil and when it is very hot and slightly smoking, add the garlic, ginger and spring onions and stir fry for 15 seconds. Then add the bean sprouts, shredded chillies and shredded water chestnuts and stir fry for about 1 minutes. Then add the rest of the ingredients and stir-fry for about 3 minutes until it is well mixed and heated through. Serve at once with some steamed rice and the chicken garnished with the spring onions.
Quote of the day
AW Tozer
"Have you noticed how much praying for revival has been going on of late - and how little revival has resulted? I believe the problem is that we have been trying to substitute praying for obeying, and it simply will not work. To pray for revival while ignoring the plain precept laid down in Scripture is to waste a lot of words and get nothing for our trouble. Prayer will become effective when we stop using it as a substitute for obedience."
"Have you noticed how much praying for revival has been going on of late - and how little revival has resulted? I believe the problem is that we have been trying to substitute praying for obeying, and it simply will not work. To pray for revival while ignoring the plain precept laid down in Scripture is to waste a lot of words and get nothing for our trouble. Prayer will become effective when we stop using it as a substitute for obedience."
Friday, August 27, 2010
Joke of the Day
A blonde walks into Best Buy and asks the clerk working there how much the TV she saw was. The clerk replied "I dont serve blondes." Irratated she walked out and dyed her hair red.
Later she came back and asked for the TV once again but the clerk replied "I dont serve blondes."
She didn't understand how he knew but she left and dyed her hair brown and came back that night again wanting to purchase the TV.
The clerk replied once again "I don't serve blondes."
Frustrated she asked the clerk how he knew it was her and he replied, "Because that's not a TV, its a microwave!"
Later she came back and asked for the TV once again but the clerk replied "I dont serve blondes."
She didn't understand how he knew but she left and dyed her hair brown and came back that night again wanting to purchase the TV.
The clerk replied once again "I don't serve blondes."
Frustrated she asked the clerk how he knew it was her and he replied, "Because that's not a TV, its a microwave!"
Christian Poem
"ALL PERSON'S HELD AS SLAVES, within said designated States and parts of States, ARE, AND HENCEFORWARD SHALL BE FREE!" --Proclamation of Emancipation, Jan. 1st, 1863.
"Shall be free! shall be free!"--lo, the strong winds have caught it,
And borne it from hill top to hill top afar,
And echo to answering echo has taught it,
Through the din of the conflict, the thunder of war!
It has flashed like the lightning from ocean to ocean,
Across the black face of the skies it has blazed,
And strong men have thrilled with unwonted emotion,
And shouted for joy as they listened and gazed!
"Shall be free! shall be free!"--the poor, manacled "chattel"
Has caught the sweet word amid fetters and blows;
It has burst on his ear through the tumult of battle,
Through the shoutings of friends and the cursings of foes;
And lifting his poor, fettered hands up to heaven,
He has joined in the song that ascended to God;
Or, kneeling in trembling rapture, has given
Thanksgiving to Him who has broken the rod!
"Shall be free! shall be free!"--there are ears that have listened,
There are lips that have prayed through long, agonized years,
There are eyes that with hope's fitful radiance have glistened
Yet, as hope was deferred, have grown heavy with tears
Joy! joy!--thou hast heard it at last, lonely weeper,
Look up, for the prayer of thy anguish is heard.
Look up, ye bruised spirits, for God is your keeper,
And the heart of His boundless compassion is stirred.
"Shall be free! shall be free!"--O Humanity, listen
The Dawn that long since on the pale "Watcher" shone
Now higher, and brighter, and clearer has risen,
As the Day star rides on toward the glories of noon.
Those words that rang out from the isles of the ocean,
Sarmatia has echoed from mountain to sea
And America, from her red field of commotion,
He echoes the same stirring words--"Shall be free!"
Hark!--all the wild air is astir with the tempest!
The swift lightnings leap in red arrows on high!
Winds shriek to mad winds, and the hoarse thunder answer
As it ploughs its dread path through the shuddering sky!
There are hisses of serpents, and howlings of demons,
And moanings of anguish by land and by sea,
But, clearer than angel tones, high o'er the tumult,
Rings out the glad utterance--"they shall be free!"
And lo! dimly seen, on the crest of the billow
Lashed white by the storm, undismayed and serene,
Moves that form that once bent o'er the sufferer's pillow,
And touched the dim eyes till strange glories were seen
And sweetly, to ears that will patiently listen,
That voice which spake "peace" to turbulent sea,
Now speaks through the roar of the tempest uprisen,
In tones unmistakable,--"THEY SHALL BE FREE!" - Mrs. J. C. Yule
"Shall be free! shall be free!"--lo, the strong winds have caught it,
And borne it from hill top to hill top afar,
And echo to answering echo has taught it,
Through the din of the conflict, the thunder of war!
It has flashed like the lightning from ocean to ocean,
Across the black face of the skies it has blazed,
And strong men have thrilled with unwonted emotion,
And shouted for joy as they listened and gazed!
"Shall be free! shall be free!"--the poor, manacled "chattel"
Has caught the sweet word amid fetters and blows;
It has burst on his ear through the tumult of battle,
Through the shoutings of friends and the cursings of foes;
And lifting his poor, fettered hands up to heaven,
He has joined in the song that ascended to God;
Or, kneeling in trembling rapture, has given
Thanksgiving to Him who has broken the rod!
"Shall be free! shall be free!"--there are ears that have listened,
There are lips that have prayed through long, agonized years,
There are eyes that with hope's fitful radiance have glistened
Yet, as hope was deferred, have grown heavy with tears
Joy! joy!--thou hast heard it at last, lonely weeper,
Look up, for the prayer of thy anguish is heard.
Look up, ye bruised spirits, for God is your keeper,
And the heart of His boundless compassion is stirred.
"Shall be free! shall be free!"--O Humanity, listen
The Dawn that long since on the pale "Watcher" shone
Now higher, and brighter, and clearer has risen,
As the Day star rides on toward the glories of noon.
Those words that rang out from the isles of the ocean,
Sarmatia has echoed from mountain to sea
And America, from her red field of commotion,
He echoes the same stirring words--"Shall be free!"
Hark!--all the wild air is astir with the tempest!
The swift lightnings leap in red arrows on high!
Winds shriek to mad winds, and the hoarse thunder answer
As it ploughs its dread path through the shuddering sky!
There are hisses of serpents, and howlings of demons,
And moanings of anguish by land and by sea,
But, clearer than angel tones, high o'er the tumult,
Rings out the glad utterance--"they shall be free!"
And lo! dimly seen, on the crest of the billow
Lashed white by the storm, undismayed and serene,
Moves that form that once bent o'er the sufferer's pillow,
And touched the dim eyes till strange glories were seen
And sweetly, to ears that will patiently listen,
That voice which spake "peace" to turbulent sea,
Now speaks through the roar of the tempest uprisen,
In tones unmistakable,--"THEY SHALL BE FREE!" - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Recipe of the day
Pub date
Boston Fudge Cake with Fudge Sauce Recipe
Cake:
2 cups brown sugar
1/2 cup shortening
1 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 squares unsweetened chocolate, melted
3 eggs
2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
Fudge Sauce:
1 bar German chocolate
1/2 square unsweetened chocolate
1 stick butter
3 cups unsifted powdered sugar
1 2/3 cups evaporated milk
1 1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract
Directions
2.To make the cake, cream together sugar, shortening; add buttermilk and vanilla. Add melted chocolate,
3.To make the sauce, melt chocolate and butter in saucepan over very low heat. Stir in powdered sugar,
Cake:
2 cups brown sugar
1/2 cup shortening
1 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 squares unsweetened chocolate, melted
3 eggs
2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
Fudge Sauce:
1 bar German chocolate
1/2 square unsweetened chocolate
1 stick butter
3 cups unsifted powdered sugar
1 2/3 cups evaporated milk
1 1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract
Directions
1.Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour a sheet pan.
2.To make the cake, cream together sugar, shortening; add buttermilk and vanilla. Add melted chocolate,
and eggs, 1 at a time; beat for 2 minutes. Sift together dry ingredients, add to creamed mixture. Beat an
additional 2 minutes. Pour into prepared sheet pan. Bake for 35 minutes.
3.To make the sauce, melt chocolate and butter in saucepan over very low heat. Stir in powdered sugar,
alternately with evaporated milk, blending well. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly. Cook
and stir until mixture becomes thick and creamy, about 8 minutes. Stir in vanilla; serve warm over cake.
Quote of the day
"I want deliberately to encourage this mighty longing after God. The lack of it has brought us to our present low estate. The stiff and wooden quality about our religious lives is a result of our lack of holy desire. Complacency is a deadly foe of all spiritual growth. Acute desire must be present or there will be no manifestation of Christ to His people. He waits to be wanted. Too bad that with many of us He waits so long, so very long, in vain."
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Word of the Day
"Hold fast that which is good" (I. Thess. 10: 21).
It is a great thing to be able to receive new truth and blessing without sacrificing the truths already proved, and abandoning foundations already laid.
Some persons are always laying the foundations, and they present at last, the appearance of a lot of abandoned sites and half constructed buildings, and nothing is ever brought to completion.
The fact that you are abandoning to-day for some new truth the things that a year ago you counted most precious and believed to be divinely true, should be sufficient evidence that you will probably a year from to-day abandon your present convictions for the next new light that comes to you.
God is ever wanting to add to us, to develop us, to enlarge us, to teach us more and more, but it is ever in the line of things which He has already taught us, and in which we have been established.
While we are to "prove all things," let us "hold fast that which is good," and "whereto we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule, let us mind the same thing."
It is a great thing to be able to receive new truth and blessing without sacrificing the truths already proved, and abandoning foundations already laid.
Some persons are always laying the foundations, and they present at last, the appearance of a lot of abandoned sites and half constructed buildings, and nothing is ever brought to completion.
The fact that you are abandoning to-day for some new truth the things that a year ago you counted most precious and believed to be divinely true, should be sufficient evidence that you will probably a year from to-day abandon your present convictions for the next new light that comes to you.
God is ever wanting to add to us, to develop us, to enlarge us, to teach us more and more, but it is ever in the line of things which He has already taught us, and in which we have been established.
While we are to "prove all things," let us "hold fast that which is good," and "whereto we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule, let us mind the same thing."
Joke of the Day
A guy takes his blonde girlfriend to a football game for the first time. After the game he asked her how she liked the game.
"Oh, I really liked it," she said, "but I just couldn't understand though why they were killing each other for 25 cents."
"What do you mean?"
"All they kept screaming was: Get the quarter back! Get the quarter back!"
"Oh, I really liked it," she said, "but I just couldn't understand though why they were killing each other for 25 cents."
"What do you mean?"
"All they kept screaming was: Get the quarter back! Get the quarter back!"
Christian Poem
I am slowly treading the mazy track
That leadeth, through sunshine and shadows, back--
Through freshest meads where the dews yet cling
As erst they did to each lowly thing,
Where flowers bloom and where streamlets flow
With the tender music of long ago--
To the far-off past that, through mists of tears,
In its spring time loveliness still appears,
And wooes me back to the gleaming shore
Of sunny years that return no more.
And to night, all weary, and sad, and lone,
I return in thought to those bright years flown,
Whose lingering sweetness, e'en yet, I feel
Like the breath of flower-scents over me steal
I am treading o'er mounds where the dead repose,--
I am stirring the dust of life's perished rose,--
I am rustling the withered leaves that lie
Thick in the pathway of Memory,--
And calling out from each lonely hill
Echoes of voices forever still.
And I pause again where I stood of yore
In the Sabbath light at an old church door,
And, ling'ring a moment, I turn to view
The green hills leaning against the blue
As erewhile they stood in the golden calm
Of morning's sunlight and breath of balm,
With clustering verdure, and blossoming trees,
And gush of bird song and hum of bees,
And glancing shadows that came and went
Of soft clouds high in the firmament,
Floating away in their robes of white
On snowy pinions through realms of light.
And I see again through the azure sky
The same white cloudlets still floating by;
And a greener line through the meadow shows
Where a little streamlet still, singing, flows;
And out from a woodland there floats again
Of joyous warblers the old, sweet strain;
While still, with serious, reverent air,
Aged and young seek the house of prayer.
And with them I enter the narrow door
That open stands as it stood of yore;
And look up again at the windows tall,--
At the narrow aisles and the naked wall,--
At the high, straight pulpit with cushion red,
And its worn, old Bible still open spread,--
At the pews where, unhindered, the slant rays fall,--
At the long, plain gallery over all
Where maid and matron, and son and sire,
Together sang in the old church-choir.
And again, as I listen, I seem to hear
The strains of old, half-forgotten Mear,
And solemn China, and grave Dundee,
And stately Rockingham, calm and free,
And rare Old-Hundred's majestic swell,
And tender Hebron we loved so well,
And tuneful Stonefield's melodies sweet,
Bridgewater, Windham, and Silver-street,
And rich St. Martin, and yet again
Old Coronation's exultant strain,
And sweet Devizes' slow, warbled tone,
Resounding Lenox and Arlington,
And gentle Boyleston, and many more
Which Memory holds in her treasured store,
That rise and fall on the tranquil air,
As they did of old, in this house of prayer;
Where, Sabbath by Sabbath, for many a year,
Often and often we sang them here.
For many a year--but they all are flown,
The band is broken, and hushed each tone,
And voices that mingled in tuneful breath,
Are silent now in the hush of death!
Scattered like Autumn-leaves far and near
Are those who clustered together here,--
Gone, like flowers in the swift stream cast,
Like wandering birds when the summer's past,
Like perfume shed in the tempest's track,
Never again to be gathered back!
I am thinking now of a young, fair face,
A brow of beauty, a form of grace,
The tender tones of whose sweet voice long
Swelled richly forth in our Sabbath-song;
But she laid her own, in a loved one's hand,
And he led her forth to a distant land,
Where a home, all radiant with love's pure beam,
Fulfilled her girlhood's enraptured dream;--
Yet she only pined 'neath the stranger's sky,
And he brought her back to her own--to die!
The breath of Spring-time was on the plain,
And flowers were bursting to life again,
And birds were carolling full and free
On the leafy boughs of the forest tree,
When the sweetest voice in our tuneful throng
Faltered and failed from our choral song,
And we laid her down at her pure life's close,
Peaceful and pale in her last repose.
The silvery Thames, as it glides along,
Murmurs anear her its old, sweet song;--
The tuneful robin sings still, as when
He warbled for her in the woodland glen;--
The star she loved, through the long, still night
Keeps his old, calm watch 'mid the planets bright;--
Her favorite flowers are still as fair
As when twined 'mid the braids of her raven hair;--
But the voice we missed in that far-off Spring
Is only heard where the angels sing!
And yet another,--I see him now,
With his manly bearing and noble brow--
Who turned away from our old church-choir,
To sing with the angels in worship higher
--As an alien bird 'neath inclement skies
Foldeth its pinions to earth and dies,
So he, o'erwearied with life's unrest,
Folded his mantle around his breast,
And, meekly bowing his weary head,
Went down to rest with the quiet dead,
And long were the hearts that had loved him lone
For the absent form and the missing tone!
There was still another. I yet behold
That form as I saw it in days of old,
As we stood in the calm of those Sabbath days,
And mingled our voices in hymns of praise.
--Ah! little we dreamed as we saw him there
In his proud, young beauty, with brow so fair,
And eye so lustrous, and tones so clear,
That the cruel spoiler was then so near;--
We dreamed it not, till we saw the light
Of his clear eyes growing so strangely bright.
And the flush of health on his cheek give place
To the deadly hectic's burning trace!
There's a tranquil isle amid Southern seas--
A fair isle, swept by no wintry breeze--
Where the wandering zephyr through long, bright hours
Gathers the perfume of orange bowers,
And roses droop in the fragrant bloom
Of their summer life o'er a nameless tomb,
--In that nameless tomb he is laid to rest,
And the dust of the stranger is on his breast,
And the breath of the South sweeps its viewless lyre
O'er another lost from our old church-choir
One dreamt of wealth on a distant shore,
And he wandered far to return no more,
For the deadly pestilence swept his path,
And the strong man drooped 'neath its burning wrath,
And he sleeps alone in the shining dust
Whose golden promises mocked his trust!
By a lonely lake in the boundless West,
Another reposes in dreamless rest,--
And yet another--her pure life done--
Slumbers far off toward the setting sun,
And the youngest voice in our old church-choir
Is to-day attuned to a seraph's lyre
That old church choir--I am standing lone
Where we stood together in days by gone,
But the tranquil air by no voice is stirred
Save the lonely call of a distant bird.
The grey, old church is no longer seen,
But the rank grass over its site grows green,
And, 'mid the tomb-stones, with sighing breath,
The sad wind whispers of change and death
Hush! is it fancy?--or do I hear
A far-off melody, faint yet clear,
Of gentle voices, sweet tones of yore,
Tenderly borne from an unseen shore?
--Ah! loved, long parted, ye're joined once more
In the Sabbath light of a changeless shore!
And there, with never a jarring note,
Your joyous anthems forever float
In sweet accord with the seraph strains
That sweep unchecked o'er celestial plains;
And I long to rejoin you in regions higher, - Mrs. J. C. Yule
That leadeth, through sunshine and shadows, back--
Through freshest meads where the dews yet cling
As erst they did to each lowly thing,
Where flowers bloom and where streamlets flow
With the tender music of long ago--
To the far-off past that, through mists of tears,
In its spring time loveliness still appears,
And wooes me back to the gleaming shore
Of sunny years that return no more.
And to night, all weary, and sad, and lone,
I return in thought to those bright years flown,
Whose lingering sweetness, e'en yet, I feel
Like the breath of flower-scents over me steal
I am treading o'er mounds where the dead repose,--
I am stirring the dust of life's perished rose,--
I am rustling the withered leaves that lie
Thick in the pathway of Memory,--
And calling out from each lonely hill
Echoes of voices forever still.
And I pause again where I stood of yore
In the Sabbath light at an old church door,
And, ling'ring a moment, I turn to view
The green hills leaning against the blue
As erewhile they stood in the golden calm
Of morning's sunlight and breath of balm,
With clustering verdure, and blossoming trees,
And gush of bird song and hum of bees,
And glancing shadows that came and went
Of soft clouds high in the firmament,
Floating away in their robes of white
On snowy pinions through realms of light.
And I see again through the azure sky
The same white cloudlets still floating by;
And a greener line through the meadow shows
Where a little streamlet still, singing, flows;
And out from a woodland there floats again
Of joyous warblers the old, sweet strain;
While still, with serious, reverent air,
Aged and young seek the house of prayer.
And with them I enter the narrow door
That open stands as it stood of yore;
And look up again at the windows tall,--
At the narrow aisles and the naked wall,--
At the high, straight pulpit with cushion red,
And its worn, old Bible still open spread,--
At the pews where, unhindered, the slant rays fall,--
At the long, plain gallery over all
Where maid and matron, and son and sire,
Together sang in the old church-choir.
And again, as I listen, I seem to hear
The strains of old, half-forgotten Mear,
And solemn China, and grave Dundee,
And stately Rockingham, calm and free,
And rare Old-Hundred's majestic swell,
And tender Hebron we loved so well,
And tuneful Stonefield's melodies sweet,
Bridgewater, Windham, and Silver-street,
And rich St. Martin, and yet again
Old Coronation's exultant strain,
And sweet Devizes' slow, warbled tone,
Resounding Lenox and Arlington,
And gentle Boyleston, and many more
Which Memory holds in her treasured store,
That rise and fall on the tranquil air,
As they did of old, in this house of prayer;
Where, Sabbath by Sabbath, for many a year,
Often and often we sang them here.
For many a year--but they all are flown,
The band is broken, and hushed each tone,
And voices that mingled in tuneful breath,
Are silent now in the hush of death!
Scattered like Autumn-leaves far and near
Are those who clustered together here,--
Gone, like flowers in the swift stream cast,
Like wandering birds when the summer's past,
Like perfume shed in the tempest's track,
Never again to be gathered back!
I am thinking now of a young, fair face,
A brow of beauty, a form of grace,
The tender tones of whose sweet voice long
Swelled richly forth in our Sabbath-song;
But she laid her own, in a loved one's hand,
And he led her forth to a distant land,
Where a home, all radiant with love's pure beam,
Fulfilled her girlhood's enraptured dream;--
Yet she only pined 'neath the stranger's sky,
And he brought her back to her own--to die!
The breath of Spring-time was on the plain,
And flowers were bursting to life again,
And birds were carolling full and free
On the leafy boughs of the forest tree,
When the sweetest voice in our tuneful throng
Faltered and failed from our choral song,
And we laid her down at her pure life's close,
Peaceful and pale in her last repose.
The silvery Thames, as it glides along,
Murmurs anear her its old, sweet song;--
The tuneful robin sings still, as when
He warbled for her in the woodland glen;--
The star she loved, through the long, still night
Keeps his old, calm watch 'mid the planets bright;--
Her favorite flowers are still as fair
As when twined 'mid the braids of her raven hair;--
But the voice we missed in that far-off Spring
Is only heard where the angels sing!
And yet another,--I see him now,
With his manly bearing and noble brow--
Who turned away from our old church-choir,
To sing with the angels in worship higher
--As an alien bird 'neath inclement skies
Foldeth its pinions to earth and dies,
So he, o'erwearied with life's unrest,
Folded his mantle around his breast,
And, meekly bowing his weary head,
Went down to rest with the quiet dead,
And long were the hearts that had loved him lone
For the absent form and the missing tone!
There was still another. I yet behold
That form as I saw it in days of old,
As we stood in the calm of those Sabbath days,
And mingled our voices in hymns of praise.
--Ah! little we dreamed as we saw him there
In his proud, young beauty, with brow so fair,
And eye so lustrous, and tones so clear,
That the cruel spoiler was then so near;--
We dreamed it not, till we saw the light
Of his clear eyes growing so strangely bright.
And the flush of health on his cheek give place
To the deadly hectic's burning trace!
There's a tranquil isle amid Southern seas--
A fair isle, swept by no wintry breeze--
Where the wandering zephyr through long, bright hours
Gathers the perfume of orange bowers,
And roses droop in the fragrant bloom
Of their summer life o'er a nameless tomb,
--In that nameless tomb he is laid to rest,
And the dust of the stranger is on his breast,
And the breath of the South sweeps its viewless lyre
O'er another lost from our old church-choir
One dreamt of wealth on a distant shore,
And he wandered far to return no more,
For the deadly pestilence swept his path,
And the strong man drooped 'neath its burning wrath,
And he sleeps alone in the shining dust
Whose golden promises mocked his trust!
By a lonely lake in the boundless West,
Another reposes in dreamless rest,--
And yet another--her pure life done--
Slumbers far off toward the setting sun,
And the youngest voice in our old church-choir
Is to-day attuned to a seraph's lyre
That old church choir--I am standing lone
Where we stood together in days by gone,
But the tranquil air by no voice is stirred
Save the lonely call of a distant bird.
The grey, old church is no longer seen,
But the rank grass over its site grows green,
And, 'mid the tomb-stones, with sighing breath,
The sad wind whispers of change and death
Hush! is it fancy?--or do I hear
A far-off melody, faint yet clear,
Of gentle voices, sweet tones of yore,
Tenderly borne from an unseen shore?
--Ah! loved, long parted, ye're joined once more
In the Sabbath light of a changeless shore!
And there, with never a jarring note,
Your joyous anthems forever float
In sweet accord with the seraph strains
That sweep unchecked o'er celestial plains;
And I long to rejoin you in regions higher, - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Quote of the day
"Important as it is that we recognize God working in us, I would yet warn against an over preoccupation with the thought. It is a sure road to sterile passivity. God will not hold us responsible to understand the mysteries of election, predestination and the divine sovereignty. The best and safest way to deal with these truths is to raise our eyes to God and in deepest reverence say, Oh Lord Thou knowest. Those things belong to the deep and mysterious Profound of God's omniscience. Prying into them may make theologians, but it will never make saints."AW Tozer
Recipe of the day
Oat Groat Pilaf
Yield: 8 servings
* pure oat products
6¼ cups Boiling water 500 ml
2½ cups Whole oat groats * 625 ml
¼ cup Butter 60 ml
½ cup Onions, mince 125 ml
¼ cup Almonds, blanched, slivered 60 ml
2 tbsp Rosemary, fresh or 30 ml
2 or
2 tsp Rosemary, dried 10 ml
2 Tomatoes, medium, chopped 2
2 cups Frozen peas, cooked 500 ml
½ tsp Salt 2.5 ml
1 tsp Pepper 5 ml
Boil water, add oat groats. Turn off heat, cover
and let sit for 30 minutes. Return to heat and
bring to a rapid boil and then simmer until
tender about 35-45 minutes. There should be
enough water but check after 15 minutes of
cooking and add ½ cup more if needed.
Melt butter in frying pan, add almonds and
sauté until golden coloured, add onions and
cook until transparent.
Add cooked oat groats, fresh or dried rosemary,
tomatoes and cooked peas. Add salt and
pepper to taste. Serve warm as a side dish for a
hot meal or cool and serve cold as a salad.
Each serving has 50 grams of oats.
* pure oat products
6¼ cups Boiling water 500 ml
2½ cups Whole oat groats * 625 ml
¼ cup Butter 60 ml
½ cup Onions, mince 125 ml
¼ cup Almonds, blanched, slivered 60 ml
2 tbsp Rosemary, fresh or 30 ml
2 or
2 tsp Rosemary, dried 10 ml
2 Tomatoes, medium, chopped 2
2 cups Frozen peas, cooked 500 ml
½ tsp Salt 2.5 ml
1 tsp Pepper 5 ml
Boil water, add oat groats. Turn off heat, cover
and let sit for 30 minutes. Return to heat and
bring to a rapid boil and then simmer until
tender about 35-45 minutes. There should be
enough water but check after 15 minutes of
cooking and add ½ cup more if needed.
Melt butter in frying pan, add almonds and
sauté until golden coloured, add onions and
cook until transparent.
Add cooked oat groats, fresh or dried rosemary,
tomatoes and cooked peas. Add salt and
pepper to taste. Serve warm as a side dish for a
hot meal or cool and serve cold as a salad.
Each serving has 50 grams of oats.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Christian Poem
Good night, good night!--the day
Slowly has borne away,
Music and light;
Once more the starry train
Sweeps over vale and plain,
Soft falls the dews again--
Good night-good night!
Day's weary toils are done,
Set is the glorious sun,
Faded the light;--
Now, to the weary breast
Ever a welcome guest,--
Comes the sweet hour of rest--
Good night--good night!
Evening's cool shadows lie
Calmly o'er earth and sky;
And, from the height
Of the far, wooded hill,
Sends the lone whip-poor-will,
Softer and sweeter still,
Plaintive good night.
Gently let slumber lie
On every weary eye
Tired of the light!
E'en as the folded flowers
Sleep in the forest bowers,
Rest, through the silent hours--
Good night--good night! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Slowly has borne away,
Music and light;
Once more the starry train
Sweeps over vale and plain,
Soft falls the dews again--
Good night-good night!
Day's weary toils are done,
Set is the glorious sun,
Faded the light;--
Now, to the weary breast
Ever a welcome guest,--
Comes the sweet hour of rest--
Good night--good night!
Evening's cool shadows lie
Calmly o'er earth and sky;
And, from the height
Of the far, wooded hill,
Sends the lone whip-poor-will,
Softer and sweeter still,
Plaintive good night.
Gently let slumber lie
On every weary eye
Tired of the light!
E'en as the folded flowers
Sleep in the forest bowers,
Rest, through the silent hours--
Good night--good night! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Recipe of the day
Fruit Flan
Yield: 1- 9 inch flan – 10 servings
Pastry
1 ½ cup Oat flour * 375 ml
½ cup Tapioca flour 125 ml
½ cup Semi-salted butter 100 ml
1 tbsp Sugar 15 ml
1 Egg yolk 1
1 tbsp Lemon juice 15 ml
Measure oat flour, tapioca flour and sugar into a large bowl. Cut the butter into 1 inch pieces
and add to the flour mixture. Cut the butter into the flour mixture with pastry blender or
two knives of fingers until the mixture looks like coarse sand. Add the egg yolk and lemon
juice to the butter flour mixture and mix together with a fork until the mixture begins to
hold together. Refrigerate for 10 minutes.Empty chilled pastry onto a piece of waxed
paper large enough to accommodate a 12 inch circle of rolled pastry. Cover with another
piece of waxed paper and roll out. Remove the top waxed paper and turn the pastry into a flan
pan. Slowly remove the waxed paper and fit the pastry into the pan.
Cover the pastry with a piece of parchment paper and weight it down with pastry beads.
Bake for 10 minutes at 350 degrees F. Remove parchment paper and continue baking for
8 minutes.
Custard Filling
2 Eggs beaten slightly 2
1 cup Milk 250 ml
3 tbsp Sugar 45 ml
Place all ingredients in top of double boiler. Cook slowly stirring mixture. When the
mixture thickens and clings to a metal spoon,remove from heat and refrigerate until it is
completely cooled and thickened.Pour into cooled pastry shell.
Yield: 1- 9 inch flan – 10 servings
Pastry
1 ½ cup Oat flour * 375 ml
½ cup Tapioca flour 125 ml
½ cup Semi-salted butter 100 ml
1 tbsp Sugar 15 ml
1 Egg yolk 1
1 tbsp Lemon juice 15 ml
Measure oat flour, tapioca flour and sugar into a large bowl. Cut the butter into 1 inch pieces
and add to the flour mixture. Cut the butter into the flour mixture with pastry blender or
two knives of fingers until the mixture looks like coarse sand. Add the egg yolk and lemon
juice to the butter flour mixture and mix together with a fork until the mixture begins to
hold together. Refrigerate for 10 minutes.Empty chilled pastry onto a piece of waxed
paper large enough to accommodate a 12 inch circle of rolled pastry. Cover with another
piece of waxed paper and roll out. Remove the top waxed paper and turn the pastry into a flan
pan. Slowly remove the waxed paper and fit the pastry into the pan.
Cover the pastry with a piece of parchment paper and weight it down with pastry beads.
Bake for 10 minutes at 350 degrees F. Remove parchment paper and continue baking for
8 minutes.
Custard Filling
2 Eggs beaten slightly 2
1 cup Milk 250 ml
3 tbsp Sugar 45 ml
Place all ingredients in top of double boiler. Cook slowly stirring mixture. When the
mixture thickens and clings to a metal spoon,remove from heat and refrigerate until it is
completely cooled and thickened.Pour into cooled pastry shell.
Joke of the Day
Q: Why did the blonde get fired from the MandM factory?
A: For throwing out the W's!
Q: What do you call a blonde that dyes her hair brunette?
A: Artificial intellegence
Q: Why can't blondes make ice cubes?
A: They always forget the recipe!
Q: Did you hear about the blonde who just bought an A.M. radio?
A: It took her 2 weeks to figure out that you could play it at night!
Q: Why did the blonde keep ice cubes in the freezer?
A: So she could keep the refrigerator cold!
Q: How can you tell when a FAX had been sent from a blonde?
A: There is a stamp on it!
Q: Why do blondes like lightning?
A: They think someone is taking their picture!
Q: What does a blonde make best for dinner?
A: Reservations!
Q: What do you get when you put 20 blonde's ear to ear?
A: A WIND TUNNEL!
Q: What do you call a blonde behind the steering wheel?
A: An airbag.
Q: What was the blonde doing up in the tree?
A: She was raking leaves.
Q: How can you tell a blonde has been in the bathroom?
A: There is make-up all over the mirror
Q: What do you do when a blonde throws a grenade at you?
A: You pick it up, pull the pin, and throw it back!!!
Q: Why can't blondes make kool-aid?
A: They don't understand how to get the 2 quarts of water into the little package.
A: For throwing out the W's!
Q: What do you call a blonde that dyes her hair brunette?
A: Artificial intellegence
Q: Why can't blondes make ice cubes?
A: They always forget the recipe!
Q: Did you hear about the blonde who just bought an A.M. radio?
A: It took her 2 weeks to figure out that you could play it at night!
Q: Why did the blonde keep ice cubes in the freezer?
A: So she could keep the refrigerator cold!
Q: How can you tell when a FAX had been sent from a blonde?
A: There is a stamp on it!
Q: Why do blondes like lightning?
A: They think someone is taking their picture!
Q: What does a blonde make best for dinner?
A: Reservations!
Q: What do you get when you put 20 blonde's ear to ear?
A: A WIND TUNNEL!
Q: What do you call a blonde behind the steering wheel?
A: An airbag.
Q: What was the blonde doing up in the tree?
A: She was raking leaves.
Q: How can you tell a blonde has been in the bathroom?
A: There is make-up all over the mirror
Q: What do you do when a blonde throws a grenade at you?
A: You pick it up, pull the pin, and throw it back!!!
Q: Why can't blondes make kool-aid?
A: They don't understand how to get the 2 quarts of water into the little package.
Quote of the day
"Has it ever occurred to you that one hundred pianos all tuned to the same fork are automatically tuned to each other? They are of one accord by being tuned, not to each other, but to another standard to which each one must individually bow. So one hundred worshippers meeting together, each one looking away to Christ, are in heart nearer to each other than they could possibly be were they to become unity conscious and turn their eyes away from God to strive for closer fellowship. Social religion is perfected when private religion is purified. The body becomes stronger as its members become healthier. The whole church of God gains when the members that compose it begin to seek a better and a higher life."
Word of the Day
"Freely ye have received, freely give" (Matt. 10:8).
When God does anything marked and special for our souls, or bodies, He intends it as a sacred trust for us to communicate to others. "Freely ye have received, freely give."
It has pleased the Master in these closing days of the dispensation to reveal Himself in peculiar blessing to the hearts of His chosen disciples in all parts of the Christian Church; but this is intended to be communicated to a still wider circle, and every one of us who has been brought into these intimate relations with God, becomes a trustee, or witness for these higher truths to every one we can influence.
If God has revealed Himself to us as our Sanctifier, it is that we may help others to know Him as a Sanctifier.
If He has become our Healer, it is because there are sick and suffering lives to whom we can bring some blessing.
In like manner, if the hope of the Lord's coming has become precious to us, it would be worse than ingratitude for us to hide our testimony to this truth, and hold it only for our own personal comfort.
When God does anything marked and special for our souls, or bodies, He intends it as a sacred trust for us to communicate to others. "Freely ye have received, freely give."
It has pleased the Master in these closing days of the dispensation to reveal Himself in peculiar blessing to the hearts of His chosen disciples in all parts of the Christian Church; but this is intended to be communicated to a still wider circle, and every one of us who has been brought into these intimate relations with God, becomes a trustee, or witness for these higher truths to every one we can influence.
If God has revealed Himself to us as our Sanctifier, it is that we may help others to know Him as a Sanctifier.
If He has become our Healer, it is because there are sick and suffering lives to whom we can bring some blessing.
In like manner, if the hope of the Lord's coming has become precious to us, it would be worse than ingratitude for us to hide our testimony to this truth, and hold it only for our own personal comfort.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Quote of the day
"The neglected heart will soon be a heart overrun with worldly thoughts; the neglected life will soon become a moral chaos; the church that is not jealously protected by mighty intercession and sacrificial labors will before long become the abode of every evil bird and the hiding place for unsuspected corruption. The creeping wilderness will soon take over that church that trusts in its own strength and forgets to watch and pray."
Joke of the Day
A blonde tried to sell her old car. She was having a lot of problems selling it, because the car had 250,000 miles on it.
One day, she told her problem to a friend she worked with at a salon. Her friend told her, "There is a possibility to make the car easier to sell, but it's not legal."
"That doesn't matter," replied the blonde, "if only I can sell the car."
"Okay," said the blonde's friend. "Here is the address of a friend of mine. He owns a car repair shop. Tell him I sent you and he will turn the counter in your car back to 50,000 miles. Then it should not be a problem to sell your car anymore."
The following weekend, the blonde made the trip to the mechanic. About one month after that, the friend asked her, "Did you sell your car?"
"No," replied the blonde, "why should I? It only has 50,000 miles on it!"
One day, she told her problem to a friend she worked with at a salon. Her friend told her, "There is a possibility to make the car easier to sell, but it's not legal."
"That doesn't matter," replied the blonde, "if only I can sell the car."
"Okay," said the blonde's friend. "Here is the address of a friend of mine. He owns a car repair shop. Tell him I sent you and he will turn the counter in your car back to 50,000 miles. Then it should not be a problem to sell your car anymore."
The following weekend, the blonde made the trip to the mechanic. About one month after that, the friend asked her, "Did you sell your car?"
"No," replied the blonde, "why should I? It only has 50,000 miles on it!"
Christian Poem
Laughing and singing
With rhythmical flow,
Leaping and springing,
O light-hearted Sault!--
Tossing up snowy hands
In thy glad play,
Shaking out dewy locks
Bright with the spray,--
Joyously ever
Thy bright waters go,
Yet wearying never,
O beautiful Sault!
Kingly Superior
Leaps to thy arms,
And all his broad waters
Are bright with thy charms;
They sparkle, and glitter,
And flash in their play,
Chasing ripple and rainbow
Away and away!
Weary, I ween,
Of his solemn repose,
Gaily the mighty Flood
Flashes and glows;
And, buoyantly, brightly,
Fleet-footed or slow,
Doth dance with thee lightly,
Unwearying Sault!
If I were a fairy
I'd dance with thee too,
Daily and nightly,
Unfalt'ring and true;--
In sunlight and starlight,
In darkness and day,
As free as the breezes,
As glad in our play!
We'd sing in the darkness,
We'd laugh in the light,
We'd whirl in the eddies
At noonday and night,--
We'd toss up the waters
In sunshine, to see
How they'd fling us back di'monds
And gold in their glee;--
Such amethysts, topazes,
Rubies and pearls,
As we'd strew o'er the tide
In our innocent whirls,
And never be lonely,
Or weariness know--
Ourselves, and us only--
O light-hearted Sault!
Yet the dance is thine own,
And the song and the glee,
Thou dwellest alone,
Untrammelled and free
Our ships may not glide
O'er thy bosom,--our feet
May not trace out one path,
Or explore one retreat!
We may hollow our channels
To left or to right,
And glide on our way
With thy gambols in sight,
Yet this, and this only,
Of thee we may know,
Thou lone, but not lonely,
Free, fetterless Sault!
Farewell, ye bright waters,--
We part, and for aye!--
My pathway leads on
O'er the billows away;--
These feet will grow weary
In life's busy mart,
These eyes be oft tear-dim,
And heavy this heart;
But thou wilt sing on
In thy joyous unrest,
Unchanging, unwearying,
Buoyant and blest
While the slow-footed centuries
Glide on their way,
And nations grow hoary,
And sink in decay,--
Thou, tireless and tameless,
Unchecked in thy flow,
Shalt sing on as ever,
O beautiful Sault! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
With rhythmical flow,
Leaping and springing,
O light-hearted Sault!--
Tossing up snowy hands
In thy glad play,
Shaking out dewy locks
Bright with the spray,--
Joyously ever
Thy bright waters go,
Yet wearying never,
O beautiful Sault!
Kingly Superior
Leaps to thy arms,
And all his broad waters
Are bright with thy charms;
They sparkle, and glitter,
And flash in their play,
Chasing ripple and rainbow
Away and away!
Weary, I ween,
Of his solemn repose,
Gaily the mighty Flood
Flashes and glows;
And, buoyantly, brightly,
Fleet-footed or slow,
Doth dance with thee lightly,
Unwearying Sault!
If I were a fairy
I'd dance with thee too,
Daily and nightly,
Unfalt'ring and true;--
In sunlight and starlight,
In darkness and day,
As free as the breezes,
As glad in our play!
We'd sing in the darkness,
We'd laugh in the light,
We'd whirl in the eddies
At noonday and night,--
We'd toss up the waters
In sunshine, to see
How they'd fling us back di'monds
And gold in their glee;--
Such amethysts, topazes,
Rubies and pearls,
As we'd strew o'er the tide
In our innocent whirls,
And never be lonely,
Or weariness know--
Ourselves, and us only--
O light-hearted Sault!
Yet the dance is thine own,
And the song and the glee,
Thou dwellest alone,
Untrammelled and free
Our ships may not glide
O'er thy bosom,--our feet
May not trace out one path,
Or explore one retreat!
We may hollow our channels
To left or to right,
And glide on our way
With thy gambols in sight,
Yet this, and this only,
Of thee we may know,
Thou lone, but not lonely,
Free, fetterless Sault!
Farewell, ye bright waters,--
We part, and for aye!--
My pathway leads on
O'er the billows away;--
These feet will grow weary
In life's busy mart,
These eyes be oft tear-dim,
And heavy this heart;
But thou wilt sing on
In thy joyous unrest,
Unchanging, unwearying,
Buoyant and blest
While the slow-footed centuries
Glide on their way,
And nations grow hoary,
And sink in decay,--
Thou, tireless and tameless,
Unchecked in thy flow,
Shalt sing on as ever,
O beautiful Sault! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Recipe of the day
Fruit Topping and Glaze
Place cut fruit and or berries in a decorative pattern on top of the custard filling.Measure ½ cup of apple jelly and 1 tbsp water
and put in a saucepan. Heat until apple jelly has melted. Let stand for 5 minutes. Carefully pour the warm glaze over the fruit flan.
Each serving has 38 grams of oat flour.
Pie Pastry
Source: Sandra Henrico
Yield: 1- 9 inch pie plate – 10 servings
Pastry
1 ½ cup Oat flour * 375 ml
½ cup Tapioca flour 125 ml
1 tbsp Sugar 15 ml
½ cup Semi-salted butter 100 ml
1 Egg yolk 1
1 tbsp Lemon juice 15 ml
Measure oat flour, tapioca flour and sugar into a large bowl. Cut the butter into 1 inch pieces
and add to the flour mixture. Cut the butter into the flour mixture with pastry blender or
two knives or fingers until the mixture looks like coarse sand. Add the egg yolk and lemon
juice to the butter flour mixture and mix together with a fork until the mixture begins to
hold together. Refrigerate for 10 minutes.Empty chilled pastry onto a piece of waxed
paper large enough to accommodate a 12-inch circle of rolled pastry. Cover with another
piece of waxed paper and roll out. Remove the top waxed paper and turn the pastry into a pie
Place cut fruit and or berries in a decorative pattern on top of the custard filling.Measure ½ cup of apple jelly and 1 tbsp water
and put in a saucepan. Heat until apple jelly has melted. Let stand for 5 minutes. Carefully pour the warm glaze over the fruit flan.
Each serving has 38 grams of oat flour.
Pie Pastry
Source: Sandra Henrico
Yield: 1- 9 inch pie plate – 10 servings
Pastry
1 ½ cup Oat flour * 375 ml
½ cup Tapioca flour 125 ml
1 tbsp Sugar 15 ml
½ cup Semi-salted butter 100 ml
1 Egg yolk 1
1 tbsp Lemon juice 15 ml
Measure oat flour, tapioca flour and sugar into a large bowl. Cut the butter into 1 inch pieces
and add to the flour mixture. Cut the butter into the flour mixture with pastry blender or
two knives or fingers until the mixture looks like coarse sand. Add the egg yolk and lemon
juice to the butter flour mixture and mix together with a fork until the mixture begins to
hold together. Refrigerate for 10 minutes.Empty chilled pastry onto a piece of waxed
paper large enough to accommodate a 12-inch circle of rolled pastry. Cover with another
piece of waxed paper and roll out. Remove the top waxed paper and turn the pastry into a pie
plate. Slowly remove the waxed paper and fit the pastry into the pan.
For cooked filling – Cover the pastry with a piece of parchment paper and weight it down
with pastry beads. Bake for 10 minutes at 350 degrees F. Remove parchment paper and
continue baking for 8 minutes. Fill with cooked filling.
For uncooked filling – Add filling and use scraps of pastry to make cut outs for the top of
your pie. Bake according to the pie directions. Each serving has 38 grams of oat flour.
For cooked filling – Cover the pastry with a piece of parchment paper and weight it down
with pastry beads. Bake for 10 minutes at 350 degrees F. Remove parchment paper and
continue baking for 8 minutes. Fill with cooked filling.
For uncooked filling – Add filling and use scraps of pastry to make cut outs for the top of
your pie. Bake according to the pie directions. Each serving has 38 grams of oat flour.
Word of the Day
"I know a man in Christ" (II. Cor. 12: 2).
It is a great deliverance to lose one's self. There is no heavier millstone that one can be compelled to carry than self-consciousness. It is so easy to get introverted and coiled round one's self in our spiritual consciousness. There is nothing that is so easy to fasten on as our misery; there is nothing that is more apt to produce self-consciousness than suffering, until it becomes almost a settled habit to hold on to our burden, and pray it unceasingly into the very face of God, until our very prayer saturates us with our own misery, instead of asking for power to drop ourselves altogether, and leave ourselves in His loving hands and know that we are free, and then rise into the blessed liberty of His higher thoughts and will, and His love and care for others.
The very act of letting go of ourselves really lifts us into a higher plane, and relieves us from the thing that is hurting. This habit of prayer for others, and especially for the world, brings its own recompense, and leaves upon our hearts a blessing like the fertility which the Nile deposits upon the soil of Egypt, as it flows through to its distant goal.
It is a great deliverance to lose one's self. There is no heavier millstone that one can be compelled to carry than self-consciousness. It is so easy to get introverted and coiled round one's self in our spiritual consciousness. There is nothing that is so easy to fasten on as our misery; there is nothing that is more apt to produce self-consciousness than suffering, until it becomes almost a settled habit to hold on to our burden, and pray it unceasingly into the very face of God, until our very prayer saturates us with our own misery, instead of asking for power to drop ourselves altogether, and leave ourselves in His loving hands and know that we are free, and then rise into the blessed liberty of His higher thoughts and will, and His love and care for others.
The very act of letting go of ourselves really lifts us into a higher plane, and relieves us from the thing that is hurting. This habit of prayer for others, and especially for the world, brings its own recompense, and leaves upon our hearts a blessing like the fertility which the Nile deposits upon the soil of Egypt, as it flows through to its distant goal.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Christian Poem
Before them lay the heaving deep
Behind, the foemen pressed;
And every face grew dark with fear,
And anguish filled each breast
Save one, the Leader's, he, serene,
Beheld, with dauntless mind,
The restless floods before them seen.
The foe that pressed behind.
"Why hast thou brought us forth for this?"
The people loudly cry;--
"Were there no graves in Egypt's land,
That here we come to die?"
But calm and clear above the din
Arose the prophet's word,--
"Stand still! stand still!--and ye shall see
The salvation of the Lord!"
"Fear not!--the foes whom now you see,
Your eyes no more shall view!--
Peace to your fears!--your fathers' God
This day shall fight for you;
For Egypt, in her haughty pride
And stubbornness abhorred,
This day, in bitterness shall learn,
Jehovah is the Lord!"
He spake; and o'er the Red Sea's flood
He stretched his awful wand,
And lo! the startled waves retired,
Abashed, on either hand;
And like a mighty rampart rose
To guard the narrow way
Mysterious, that before the hosts
Of ransomed Israel lay!
Oh! strange and solemn was the road
Which they were called to tread,
With myst'ries of the ancient deep
Around their footsteps spread,--
With ocean's unknown floor laid bare
Before their wondering eyes,
And the strange, watery wall that there
On either hand did rise!
Yet fearlessly, with steadfast faith,
Their Leader led them on;
While, from behind, a heavenly light
Through the dread passage shone;--
Light for that lone and trembling band
Gleamed out with radiance clear,
While Egypt's host came groping on
Through darkness dense and drear!
'Tis past; and on Arabia's coast
The tribes of Israel stand,
While fierce and fast Egyptia's host
Approach that quiet strand;--
Though darkness, like a funeral pall,
Hangs o'er that dreary path,
Still on they desperately press
In bitterness and wrath.
Then slowly, once again, arose
The Hebrew prophet's hand,
And o'er the waiting deep outstretched
Once more that awful wand;--
The rushing waters closed in might
Above that pathway lone,
And Pharaoh, in his haughty pride,
And all his hosts were gone!
Wail, Egypt, wail!--thy kingly crown
Is humbled in the dust!
And thou, though late, art forced to own
That Israel's God is just!
And thou, O Israel, lift thy voice
In one triumphant song
Of praise to Him in whom alone
Thy feeble arm is strong! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Behind, the foemen pressed;
And every face grew dark with fear,
And anguish filled each breast
Save one, the Leader's, he, serene,
Beheld, with dauntless mind,
The restless floods before them seen.
The foe that pressed behind.
"Why hast thou brought us forth for this?"
The people loudly cry;--
"Were there no graves in Egypt's land,
That here we come to die?"
But calm and clear above the din
Arose the prophet's word,--
"Stand still! stand still!--and ye shall see
The salvation of the Lord!"
"Fear not!--the foes whom now you see,
Your eyes no more shall view!--
Peace to your fears!--your fathers' God
This day shall fight for you;
For Egypt, in her haughty pride
And stubbornness abhorred,
This day, in bitterness shall learn,
Jehovah is the Lord!"
He spake; and o'er the Red Sea's flood
He stretched his awful wand,
And lo! the startled waves retired,
Abashed, on either hand;
And like a mighty rampart rose
To guard the narrow way
Mysterious, that before the hosts
Of ransomed Israel lay!
Oh! strange and solemn was the road
Which they were called to tread,
With myst'ries of the ancient deep
Around their footsteps spread,--
With ocean's unknown floor laid bare
Before their wondering eyes,
And the strange, watery wall that there
On either hand did rise!
Yet fearlessly, with steadfast faith,
Their Leader led them on;
While, from behind, a heavenly light
Through the dread passage shone;--
Light for that lone and trembling band
Gleamed out with radiance clear,
While Egypt's host came groping on
Through darkness dense and drear!
'Tis past; and on Arabia's coast
The tribes of Israel stand,
While fierce and fast Egyptia's host
Approach that quiet strand;--
Though darkness, like a funeral pall,
Hangs o'er that dreary path,
Still on they desperately press
In bitterness and wrath.
Then slowly, once again, arose
The Hebrew prophet's hand,
And o'er the waiting deep outstretched
Once more that awful wand;--
The rushing waters closed in might
Above that pathway lone,
And Pharaoh, in his haughty pride,
And all his hosts were gone!
Wail, Egypt, wail!--thy kingly crown
Is humbled in the dust!
And thou, though late, art forced to own
That Israel's God is just!
And thou, O Israel, lift thy voice
In one triumphant song
Of praise to Him in whom alone
Thy feeble arm is strong! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Recipe of the day
Baked Beans:
INGREDIENTS
1 (29 ounce) can baked beans with pork
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup ketchup
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
In a casserole dish, combine beans, brown sugar, ketchup, and Worcestershire sauce.
Bake, covered, for 45 minutes or until bubbly.
INGREDIENTS
1 (29 ounce) can baked beans with pork
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup ketchup
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
In a casserole dish, combine beans, brown sugar, ketchup, and Worcestershire sauce.
Bake, covered, for 45 minutes or until bubbly.
Joke of the Day
A young ventriloquist is touring the clubs and stops to entertain at a bar in a small town. He's going through his usual run of stupid blond jokes, when a big blond woman in the fourth row stands on her chair and says: "I've heard just about enough of your denigrating blond jokes!
What makes you think you can stereotype women that way? What does a person's physical attributes have to do with their worth as a human being?
It's guys like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in my community, of reaching my full potential as a person ... because you and our kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against not only blondes but women at large ... all in the name of humor."
Flustered, the ventriloquist begins to apologize, but the blond stops him. "You stay out of this. Mister, I'm talking to that little jerk on your knee!"
What makes you think you can stereotype women that way? What does a person's physical attributes have to do with their worth as a human being?
It's guys like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in my community, of reaching my full potential as a person ... because you and our kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against not only blondes but women at large ... all in the name of humor."
Flustered, the ventriloquist begins to apologize, but the blond stops him. "You stay out of this. Mister, I'm talking to that little jerk on your knee!"
Word of the Day
"His wife hath made herself ready" (Rev. 19: 7).
There is danger in becoming morbid even in preparing for the Lord's coming. We remember a time in our life when we had devoted ourselves to spend a month in waiting upon the Lord for a baptism of the Holy Ghost, and before the end of the month, the Lord shook us out of our seclusion and compelled us to go out and carry His message to others; and as we went, He met us in the service.
There is a musty, monkish way of seeking a blessing, and there is a wholesome, practical holiness which finds us in the company of the Lord Himself not only in the closet and on the mountain-top of prayer, but among publicans and sinners, and in the practical duties of life.
It seems to us that the practical preparation for the Lord's coming consists, first, of a very full entering into fellowship with Him in our own spiritual life, and letting Him not only cleanse us, but perfect us in all the finer touches of the Spirit's deeper work, and then, secondly, getting out of ourselves and living for the help of others and the preparation of the world for His appearing.
There is danger in becoming morbid even in preparing for the Lord's coming. We remember a time in our life when we had devoted ourselves to spend a month in waiting upon the Lord for a baptism of the Holy Ghost, and before the end of the month, the Lord shook us out of our seclusion and compelled us to go out and carry His message to others; and as we went, He met us in the service.
There is a musty, monkish way of seeking a blessing, and there is a wholesome, practical holiness which finds us in the company of the Lord Himself not only in the closet and on the mountain-top of prayer, but among publicans and sinners, and in the practical duties of life.
It seems to us that the practical preparation for the Lord's coming consists, first, of a very full entering into fellowship with Him in our own spiritual life, and letting Him not only cleanse us, but perfect us in all the finer touches of the Spirit's deeper work, and then, secondly, getting out of ourselves and living for the help of others and the preparation of the world for His appearing.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Rivers of God
The Rivers of God
by Pastor Jim Feeney, Ph.D.
by Pastor Jim Feeney, Ph.D.
Summary: Feeling spiritually dry? in a personal desert place? God is ready and willing to pour out streams, springs, and rivers of life-giving spiritual water on your parched soul.Deuteronomy 8:7 For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land — a land with streams and pools of water, with springs flowing in the valleys and hills.
•• This is God’s intention for His people —
• to bring us into a good land
• to bring us to streams and pools of water
• to bring us to flowing springs
Psalm 78:15-17 He split the rocks in the desert and gave them water as abundant as the seas; [16] he brought streams out of a rocky crag and made water flow down like rivers. [17] But they continued to sin against him, rebelling in the desert against the Most High.• to refresh us from the rivers of God
Psalm 78:19-22 They spoke against God, saying, Can God spread a table in the desert? [20] When he struck the rock, water gushed out, and streams flowed abundantly. But can he also give us food? Can he supply meat for his people?” [21] When the Lord heard them, he was very angry; his fire broke out against Jacob, and his wrath rose against Israel, [22] for they did not believe in God or trust in his deliverance.
•• Here we see God bringing His people towards the promised land —
• In the desert He gave them abundant water. It can be the same for your desert, if you’ll by faith seek and receive God’s living waters.
• In the desert He brought His people “streams out of a rocky crag”. If your life seems “rocky”, God is ready and willing to bring His streams of blessing into it.
• In their helplessness and need, God “made water flow down like rivers”. In your times of need, the refreshing, life-giving rivers of God’s blessing are available to you.
•• But watch the warnings here, too —
• They sinned and rebelled against God in the midst of His provision of rivers of water.
• They spoke against God, essentially and ungratefully saying, “Can’t God do more?”
• In their rebellion and disbelief, they “did not...trust in [God’s] deliverance.”
•• The lesson to us is: Don’t overlook and underappeciate the present rivers of God in our lives, the present blessings of God, His present provision in our rocky places.Isaiah 44:2-4 This is what the Lord says — he who made you, who formed you in the womb, and who will help you: Do not be afraid, O Jacob, my servant, Jeshurun, whom I have chosen. [3] For I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground; I will pour out my Spirit on your offspring, and my blessing on your descendants. [4] They will spring up like grass in a meadow, like poplar trees by flowing streams.
•• God gave them natural water. More importantly, for them and us, He poured out on them Spirit-ual water. He poured out His Spirit and His blessing on His people. And God is the same today. He is ever ready to pour out His Spirit on you.
•• Where? On dry, thirsty ground. Thirst for the living waters of God's Spirit.
Isaiah 41:17-18 The poor and needy search for water, but there is none; their tongues are parched with thirst. But I the Lord will answer them; I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them. [18] I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs.• The result? God’s blessing.
•• Search for this water ... God will answer!
• Are your heights barren? Search for God’s living water, and He’ll make His rivers flow into your barrenness.
• Are your valleys parched? Seek after God’s water, and He’ll cause springs to burst forth in your parched land.
Isaiah 43:18-21 Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. [19] See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. [20] The wild animals honor me, the jackals and the owls, because I provide water in the desert and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my people, my chosen, [21] the people I formed for myself that they may proclaim my praise.• Is your devotional life dry? Search for God’s water, and He’ll turn your personal spiritual desert into refreshing springs and pools.
•• Don’t dwell on the past. God likes to do new things in the lives of His people. Look ahead!
•• In the desert wasteland, God will “give drink to [His] people”.
Jeremiah 17:7-8 But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. [8] He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.• You say, “Well, it’s been awfully dry.” Remember, God says, “I am doing a new thing.... Don’t dwell on the past.” Get ready for God’s “new thing” in your life. Look for His water in your desert and His reviving streams flowing into your wasteland.
•• Trust God. Have faith and confidence in Him.
• You’ll be like a tree rooted by His rivers of water.
• You’ll have no fears of the heat.
John 7:37-39a On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. [38] Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.” [39] By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive.• Not only will you survive times of drought, you will stay green and continue to bear fruit.
•• You don’t need to travel to find the rivers of God. They are within everyone who will:
(1) Thirst for them...
(2) Believe in Jesus...
(3) Come to Him...
(4) and drink deeply of the Holy Spirit offered by Jesus. And that Holy Spirit, whom Jesus likened to “streams of living water,” will change your life.
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