Excerpts from "Heart Breathings"
By Leonard Ravenhill
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Our Lethargy
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I walked down the steaming jungle path
'Mid exotic flowers and trees,
There were streams and gorgeous butterflies,
But my mind was not fixed on these.
My head and my feet were burning,
But my heart burned hotter with shame
As I saw the diseased and degraded
Who never had heard His name.
I thought of our stately churches
And their softly cushioned pews,
And I wept for the sin-damned millions
Who never had heard the News
Of the spotless Christ of Calvary
Who died their souls to save.
Unless there's a change, that heathen mass
Will go Christless to the grave.
God, pity our empty fullness;
God, pity our barren tree;
God, pity our long-range blindness;
God, curse our lethargy!
Turn our much-used words into action,
Change ease into Spirit-born care,
Baptize us with Thy compassion
That puts feet under our prayer.
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Point'd Preachin'
=================
My pastor's getting out of hand,
He asked me did I understand
That soon all men from every land
Before a holy God will stand.
He said, "Then you may tell the Lord
Why He should give you some reward."
But surely angels will remember,
I bought a chalice last September.
It was pure gold, that lovely chalice,
With money left by old Aunt Alice.
Can all my works be burned to cinders?
I also bought two stained-glass windows.
Don't pass my deeds up in a hurry,
They're spoken of through Wintonbury.
There's Jenny Jones and her old Sammy-
I paid their two weeks in Miami.
I've done a host of wondrous things-
Besides, we're not all rich as kings!
My pastor called my life a libel,
And said it was not like the Bible.
I can't read long (I need new glasses),
And get confused about Saul's asses-
And sure that story seems a boner
About a whale swallowed by Jonah.
I like religion hale and hearty-
A miss'n'ry film and ice cream party,
And pictures of the pyramids-
But we don't need those noisy kids,
They bring the worst side out of me,
Leave them at home-they have T.V.!
I pay my tithes and fill my pew-
Surely there's nothing else to do!
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Christ the Borrower
===================
God laid Him in a borrowed womb,
Men laid Him in a borrowed tomb;
His life was borrow, borrow.
He had no pillow for His head,
A stone He borrowed then instead,
He borrowed fish for dinner.
A cup He borrowed from a dame
Despite her rather sordid name,
To help that thirsty sinner.
A borrowed boat from which to preach-
A borrowed mount on which to teach-
No time for fun or leisure.
He borrowed once a lowly penny,
Since of His own He hadn't any,
For each belonged to Caesar.
He rode upon a borrowed ass
That prophecy might come to pass,
No horse or golden carriage.
A room He borrowed to celebrate
His last meal, and anticipate
The supper of His marriage.
He borrowed (staggering to the mind)
The whole vast sin of humankind,
Our sacrifice to be;
The Spotless One Who did such good
Was hammered to some borrowed wood
With scarce an eye to pity.
His life was filled with "borrow, borrow,"
Acquainted with grief, this Man of Sorrow,
Deserted by His friends.
They laid Him in a borrowed grave,
The Christ, the Mighty still to save-
With death His "borrow" ends!
For soon, ah soon, the Victor rose
Triumphant over death and foes,
All power and principality.
Who borrowed, borrows now no more,
Triumphant then and evermore,
The Lord of all eternity.
He "was" before the world began-
This Son of God was Son of Man,
But now He reigns forever.
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Seeking Thee
============
Lord, I seek Thee for renewing
Of my faith and of my love.
Rush and care are my undoing-
Touch me, Savior, from above.
Chorus:
Seeking Thee, seeking Thee,
Touch and give me liberty.
Pass me not, O holy Savior,
Leave me not to grope and fail.
Through Thy blood I seek Thy favor,
With Thy grace I can prevail.
Faith moves in to claim the promise,
Peace revives and floods my soul.
Make me now Thy chosen chalice,
Giving drink that makes men whole.
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In Heathendom
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Millions are waiting yet
In heathendom.
Will they the Gospel get
In heathendom?
Who will arise and go
Out to this sin, this woe,
And Christ the Savior show
To heathendom?
The sun will soon be set
O'er heathendom.
But they are waiting yet
In heathendom.
Lost in the fog of sin,
Will none these wanderers win
For Jesus Christ our King
From heathendom?
Will someone lead the way
To heathendom?
Will others join the fray
In heathendom?
Lord, raise a holy band
With hearts empowered to stand
All that You will demand
For heathendom.
---
Excerpts taken from
"Heart Breathings" by Leonard Ravenhill.
Used by permission.
Copyright 1995 by
Harvey Christian Publishers, L.L.P.
United States Address:
Harvey Christian Publishers Inc.
3107 Hwy 321
Hampton, TN 37658
Tel / Fax (423) 768 2297
E-Mail Harveycp@psknet.com
British Address:
Harvey Christian Publishers, L.L.P.
PO Box 510, Cheadle
Stoke-on-Trent, ST10 2NQ
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