THINK ABOUT IT            12-29-23

THINK ABOUT IT           12-20-23

Jesus paid it all
All to Him I owe
Sin had left a crimson stain
He washed it white as snow

As you celebrate Christmas think about those words, “But He knew if I became like Him, He must become like me”! To think that God loved us so much that He came to us as a man, subjected Him to suffering and died on the cross for our sins is amazing – amazing grace! – HDS

 P.Philip Bliss (1838-1876) might have become the most prolific hymn writer of his era had he not died young. He grew up in a log cabin in Pennsylvania and was saved at age 12. He married Lucy Young in 1859. They shared a love for music and sang duets together. He loved music from childhood but had no opportunity for formal training until 1860 when Lucy’s grandmother donated $30 so he could attend a six-week program at the Normal Academy of Music of New York. From 1865 to 1873, he worked with the Root and Cady Musical Publishers in Chicago, conducting music conventions, singing schools, and concerts.

In 1874, he surrendered his music talents totally to the Lord’s service. “Mr. Bliss made a formal surrender of his life to Jesus Christ. He gave up everything, his musical conventions, his writing of secular songs, his business position, his work at the church, so that he would be free to devote full time to the singing of sacred music in evangelism” (Ed Reese, Philip P. Bliss).

Bliss was the song leader for evangelist Daniel Whittle from 1874 to 1876. They had 25 campaigns in eight states in the east, south, and midwest. He published his first book of Gospel Songs and devoted the entire profit of $30,000 to evangelism. After Ira Sankey returned from the Moody crusades in England in 1875, the Bliss/Sankey songbooks were combined into Gospel Hymns and Sacred Songs.

In November 1876, Bliss conducted a service for the 800 inmates of the Michigan State Prison and saw the fruit of genuine repentance in many. There he sang “Hallelujah, What a Saviour” and another of his own, “Eternity.”

Philip Bliss’s popular hymns include the following:

“Jesus Loves Even Me” (1870)
“Hold the Fort” (1870)
“Whosoever Will” (1870)
“Almost Persuaded” (1871)
“Once for All” (1871)
“Dare to Be a Daniel” (1873)
“Pull for the Shore” (1873)
“Hallelujah, What a Saviour!” (1875)
“The Light of the Word Is Jesus” (1875)
“Let the Lower Lights Be Burning” (1875)
“Wonderful Words of Life” (1874)
“I Will Sing of My Redeemer” (1876) (tune by James McGranahan)
“Hallelujah ’Tis Done” (1876)

Bliss wrote the tunes to Frances Havergal’s “I Gave My Life for Thee” and Horatio Spafford’s “It Is Well with My Soul” (1876).

Agreeing to begin work with D.L. Moody in late 1876, Bliss and his wife traveled to Rome, Pennsylvania, for Christmas holidays with Bliss’s mother and sister, and immediately afterwards booked seats on a train back to Chicago for meetings that were to begin the Sunday following Christmas. As the train neared Ashtabula, Ohio, a bridge collapsed and the cars plunged 75 feet into the icy river below. “Five minutes after the train fell, fire broke out from the kerosene heaters in the train’s cars. Fanned by gale-like winds, the wooden coaches were soon fiercely ablaze. Mr. Bliss succeeded in extricating himself and crawling to safety through a window. Finding his wife was pinned under the ironwork of the seats, he returned into the car, and bravely remained at her side, trying to extricate her as the flames took their toll. All that remained was a charred mass. No trace of their bodies was ever discovered” (Reese). It was said that Bliss was a man of “herculean stature,” but he couldn’t rescue his wife and they perished together. With the remains of other passengers whose bodies could not be recognized, that of Philip and Lucy Bliss were buried in a mass grave that was marked with a large monument.

The Blisses were survived by two sons, George and Philip, who were aged four and one at the time of their parents’ death.

Bliss had sent their trunk ahead to Chicago, and it arrived safely. In it was “I Will Sing of My Redeemer,” which was later set to music by James McGranaham. Also in the trunk was the last song that Bliss wrote the music for, a poem by Mary Brainard entitled “He Knows.” It was first sung at Bliss’s funeral.

“He Knows”

1 I know not what awaits me, God kindly veils mine eyes, And o’er each step of my onward way He makes new scenes to rise;And every joy He sends me, comes A sweet and glad surprise.

Refrain Where He may lead me I’ll follow, My trust in Him repose, And every hour in perfect peace I’ll sing, He knows, He knows;And every hour in perfect peace I’ll sing, He knows, He knows.

2 One step I see before me, ’Tis all I need to see, The light of Heav’n more brightly shines, When earth’s illusions flee;And sweetly through the silence, came His loving “Follow Me.”

3 Oh, blissful lack of wisdom, ’Tis blessed not to know;He holds me with His own right hand, And will not let me go, And lulls my troubled soul to rest In Him Who loves me so.

4 So on I go not knowing, I would not if I might;I’d rather walk in the dark with God Than go alone in the light;I’d rather walk in faith with Him Than go alone by sight. – David Cloud

David Stone  
Lakeway Baptist Church  
Humble, Tx

THINK ABOUT IT            12-17-23

WHAT TO GIVE

Christmas is the season when many people are thinking about giving. The truth is that giving should be a way of life, not just a seasonal event. Giving is an expression of love and we naturally want to please those we love. Let me ask you a question. Have you ever wanted to give someone something that you couldn’t give? I suspect we all have. We love to give our loved ones the things they desire. The problem is that we don’t always have it to give. What then? Let me encourage you by reminding you that the most important things in life can be given by all of us, regardless of the size of our bank account. Here’s a few things we all can give:

• Appreciation. Everyone needs to know they are appreciated and little things mean a lot. Get in the habit of letting people know that you appreciate them.That’s a gift they will cherish!
• Time. This is a gift that we all can give–everyone has the same amount. Nursing homes, hospitals, etc. are filled with lonely people. Take time to be with or in contact with them.
• Attention. It’s not enough to merely be in someone’s presence, they need your attention.Be a good listener.
• Courtesy. It doesn’t cost a cent to be kind. A gracious word, a smile, a hand-shake, etc.doesn’t cost anything, yet are of great value. People have enough problems without you adding to their woes.
• Love. However it is expressed, people need to know that they are loved. Do whatever you can, in word and deed, to show people that you truly care about them. Those who care do!    HDS

David Stone

 Lakeway Baptist Church   

Humble, Tx

THINK ABOUT IT             12-15-23

WHAT THE MIGHTIEST MAN COULDN’T DO

Everybody knew the local blacksmith. Everybody knew him because no matter where the townsfolk went, they could hear the sound of his hammer as it beat against the anvil. No matter where they were they could hear the sound of his bellows as it spurred the fire to burn and roar with fresh intensity. Day in and day out his sledge beat against the metal like the ticking of a clock, like the beating of a drum, like the ringing of a bell.

Men, women, and children alike would pause as they passed by his workshop—pause to watch him rain mighty but measured blows upon rods and bands of iron. His shoulders were broad, his arms thick, his hands strong. Villains feared him but good men respected him, for they knew he was honorable, they knew he was committed to using his strength for good. An occasional uppity young man might challenge him and attempt to best him, but he would inevitably make that youngster regret such rashness, for none could ever throw him to the ground or make him beg for mercy.

It happened on one otherwise unremarkable afternoon that a silence settled over that small town and the people soon realized that the blacksmith’s hammer had fallen silent. Slowly it registered in their consciousness that they could no longer hear it ringing out through the streets, no longer use it to measure the hours and the minutes. Those who gazed into his shop saw his hammer resting still beside the anvil, the fire burning low, the workshop devoid of life and activity. The blacksmith was nowhere to be found.

A few walked silently to his home and, gazing through the window, saw a scene they would never forget. The blacksmith was inside, lying on a cot, cradling his sick and feverish child. He held her as gently as could be, carefully dabbing a cloth against her forehead, his calloused hands softly brushing a tear from her eye. He sang her a quiet lullaby, his trembling voice soothing her sorrows and drawing her to sleep. And soon enough she slept, her little head resting comfortably on his mighty chest.

The people understood that this weak little girl had done what the mightiest man could never do—she had brought that blacksmith to the dust. She had taken his mighty hand in her little one and drawn him down, down in her weakness. She alone had caused him to stoop, she alone had brought him down to her level. Her weakness had proven to be her strength and now the strongest of all was soothing and tending the weakest of all.

And isn’t our Jesus just like that? He is the one through whom all things were created and the one through whom all things exist. He is the one who has been given all authority in both earth and heaven and the one who has been crowned King of kings. Yet he is the one who responds to our weakness rather than our strength, to our helplessness rather than our ability. He is the one who came to seek and save the lost, who came to gather to himself the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame, the one who came to respond in strength to those who know themselves weak. When we need his power, when we need his love, when we need his forgiveness, we can approach him weak and broken. Like a little child, we can take his hand and he will gladly be drawn down, he will joyfully stoop to hear us, to lovingly tend to us. “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” he will remind us, “for theirs—for yours—is the kingdom of heaven.”

David Stone

Lakeway Baptist Church  

Humble, Tx.