Excerpts from "Heart Breathings"
By Leonard Ravenhill
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Judgment
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Yes, east is east and west is west,
But soon the twain shall meet,
For all roads north, east, west, and south
Shall join -- with pleas from every mouth --
At Christ's great Judgment Seat.
It staggers the mind -- that ultimate day --
With earth's proud empires swept away,
When billions rise from their weary bones
To mix with kings of the oldest thrones
And share with them eternal groans.
All human values will alter then
At the greatest judgment known to men.
Who have nothing now, can have something then,
Who have something now, may have nothing when
We stand at the judgment beyond our ken.
God will view the kings and the conquerors
Who ruled with pride over millions for years
And wrote their own vain history
In other men's blood and sweat and tears.
Rulers they'll be no longer then
With terrible power as kings,
But naked they'll kneel at this judgment,
Awaiting all that it brings.
For the angels kept a record,
Unbiased the game was scored.
The angels patiently watched it
Without a critical word.
But when the books are opened
Before ten billion men,
And all is tried by God's blazing eye,
Will the game be worth it then?
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Jungle Girl
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I looked in her eyes like saucers,
Just a girl on the Jungle track.
She was one of the forest's daughters
With a bundle slung over her back.
She was naked except for a G-string,
And as black as a cob of coal,
But the dirt on her smelly body
Was white 'gainst the filth of her soul.
Beneath that skin was a woman,
Though she looked as wild as a beast;
But she knew no rights as a woman,
To say the very least.
She worked for her man in the daytime,
She slaked his lust at night --
A woman, dear Lord, a woman
Without her human right.
O Lord, as things are going,
It very well might be
She'll learn of Communist Russia
Before she learns of Thee.
I flick back a page of my memory
To our churches and people there
Who spend less time a-praying
Than they do in styling their hair;
Those who plan for frivolous parties
With frolics and food and fun
But no cares for the wasted hours
With so little praying done.
O God, dear God, in compassion
Look down on our tearless eye;
Baptize us with Thy Holy passion
For the heathen we've left to die.
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Lord, Emancipate
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These doubts and fears for many years
Have fettered up my soul.
Oh, blessed Lord, emancipate,
Come now and take control!
I now aspire with strong desire
To be a channel clean.
Oh, blessed Lord, emancipate,
Reign where the "I" has been.
Oh, take me higher, endue with fire,
Thy glory dwell within!
Oh, blessed Lord, emancipate,
And keep me free from sin!
Now free from sin, endue within
Give Thy compassion -- tears;
Thou dost, my Lord, emancipate,
Restore my wasted years.
At any loss I choose Thy Cross,
Earth's values I deplore.
Thy blood doth now emancipate;
Thy victory I adore!
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Our Status Quo
==============
Oh, pastor, no, and again, no, no,
Do not disturb our status quo.
We love our Zion with cushioned ease
And ask you not to disturb us -- please?
After all, we carry a little care,
And often sing "Sweet Hour of Prayer."
Dear pastor, we do not understand
Why you grieve for those in a foreign land.
We have the sick and needy poor
Ten yards outside of our own church door.
And, pastor dear, we often wonder
Why, at times, you seem to thunder
Against our hearts -- which you say are cold --
(It seems to us you are very bold).
We believe in sin and regeneration,
Would you have us throw off the recreation
That gives us fun and makes us sleep?
Would you have us pray and fast and weep
For the heathen -- lost, and, you say, damned?
(A thing we hardly understand)
Our lives will need re-evaluation
If we are to care for another nation;
We have gorgeous homes, soft beds to die on,
We like it soft in our little Zion.
Oh, pastor, please again, no, no;
Do not disturb our status quo.
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Some Work -- Some Shirk
=======================
Some feast, some fast, some laugh, some groan.
Some fight their way to promotion.
Some labor and sweat almost unknown;
Some render unselfish devotion.
Some even boast of what we have done,
Some work with consecration;
Some speak only of Jesus the Son,
Some are full of self-adoration.
Some work with an eye on the glory,
Some work with an eye on the pay;
Some run with the Lord's blessed story,
Some work toward the Judgment Day.
Some tell of Thy great salvation,
Some bury their talent with care;
Some seek to evade tribulation,
Some know the soul-sweat in prayer.
Some doubt the power of Satan,
Some think they've "done all" and just stand;
Some shirk, with skill in evasion,
Some carry the burden He planned.
Some work for the night is coming,
Some toil in the heat of the day;
Some laze their hours just sunning,
Some fill their evenings with play.
Some will rejoice at the Judgement,
With deeds purified through the flame;
Some, with their works only ashes,
Will weep with regret for the shame.
---
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
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British Address:
Harvey Christian Publishers, L.L.P.
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