His lamp am I,
To shine where He shall say;
And lamps are not for sunny rooms,
Nor for the light of day;
But for the dark places of the earth,
Where shame and wrong and crime have birth,
Or for the murky twlight gray
Where wandering sheep have gone astray,
Or where the lamp of faith grows dim
And souls are groping after Him.
And sometimes a flame,
Clear-shining, through the night
So bright we do not see the lamp --
But only see the light --
So may I shine, His light the flame,
That men may glorify His name.
Annie Johnson Flint
**lamp/scripture photos taken during this morning's power outage; Eric says he knows it's December Photo Project time when he hears me snapping pictures at 5 am in the dark. ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment