The Touch of the Master's Hand

It was battered and scarred,

And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.


"What am I bid, good people", he cried,
"Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,"


But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.


The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its' bow.


"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone", said he.


The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
"We just don't understand."
"What changed its' worth?"
Swift came the reply.
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."


And many a man with life out of tune
All battered with bourbon and gin
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin


A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.


But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters' Hand.



Myra Brooks Welch



If ever your life is out of tune,

And no music soothes the soul,
Seek out The Master whose gentle touch
Will bless you and make you whole.


Like an old violin, weathered and worn
A life may not be so grand,
But may be uplifted, transformed, and renewed
By the touch of The Master's Hand.


~ Ken Brown ~

 
-Momo

My Times Are In Thy Hand (My God, I Wish Them There)

Written by William F. Lloyd

My times are in Thy hand;
My God, I wish them there;
My life, my friends, my soul I leave
Entirely to Thy care.

My times are in Thy hand;
Whatever they may be;
Pleasing or painful, dark or bright,
As best may seem to Thee.

My times are in Thy hand;
Why should I doubt or fear?
My Father’s hand will never cause
His child a needless tear.

My times are in Thy hand,
Jesus, the crucified!
Those hands my cruel sins had pierced
Are now my guard and guide.

My times are in Thy hand,
I’ll always trust in Thee;
And, after death, at Thy right hand
I shall forever be.


Risa

Faces

Jack's debonair face ;]. As you can see, yes, he is bald.

Goldilocks' "feed the orphans" face

And SquiRe's "alien" face (which means Indian, which means Native American.) He calls them aliens, we don't know why.

And those are the faces of the day. Tune in next week to see our newest special, "Feet" =P.

SAM (again)

What Faith Can Do

I am changing the song on here just because I like this song better and decided I'd just edit this post instead of doing a new one. ;-]


SAM

NaNoWriMo among other things...

Hey sorry we sort of dropped off the face of the earth there for a while...we've been busy with...well, see the post below ;-).
Not only that but...NaNoWriMo! NaNo for short and National Novel Writing Month for long. See the widget on the side for an explanation!
Also there's been our new laptop which we bought just in time to see our other and formerly only computer moniter quit working for good.
School, too, has been taking up spare time. And lots of it.

So that's what's been going on with us but...regular POSTS are coming! Soon. Just not right now.

SAM