THE WORK OF OUR HANDS

Our little great-grandson!

   THE WORK OF OUR HANDS...

The Lord has established the work of our hands.  Perhaps, planting or arranging flowers is your forte.
Aside from his work as a tool and die maker, my Dad loved  masonry.  I recall the stone walls, fireplaces and sidewalks that he created with care.  Mom loved to prepare meals for a holiday.  The family members were the cheerful recipients of her tasty little morsels.  I love words and notes so writing and piano music are both favorites of mine.  The Lord has blessed me with the ability to write and to create original piano music.  Every morning, I thank Him for 'establishing the work of my hands'.  Whatever work that I did as a psychiatric R.N. is praise-worthy to my Lord and King, for allowing me to have done it.

We are "enriched in everything by Him in all utterance and all knowledge, even as the testimony of Christ was confirmed in you."  I Corinthians 1: 5 and 6.  The Lord has enriched us and He will sustain us through His Holy Spirit.  "Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God."  Corinthians 2:12 ...How He loves us!  Can we take it in?  May we breathe in the gifts, "the testimony of Christ" that the Lord has bestowed upon us and bring honor to His name!

Whatever we say or write or sing or grow or sketch or paint or sculpt -and  on and on, is for His glory.  May we be worthy of the calling.  In Ephesians 4: 1  Paul writes "I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you to walk worthy of the calling with which you were called."

PRAYER:
Lord, we come before you with grateful hearts, thanking you for  the our calling.  We pray that you continue to bless and speak through us as we endeavor to live as your servants.  Touch the hearts of those who need a word of encouragement.  Help each one of us to live as you would have us live, in your strength and in your love and in your care.  In Jesus' name,   Amen.




Post note:  Please forgive the late entry this week.  I like to send an entry to each of you on Mondays.  I have been working on a completing a book of poetry, A Kiss from God and a non-fiction biography, Think Piece.  This morning, as I was washing the dishes and talking to God, the thought came to me that I could ask the people who read my blog to pray for me...and.that these books will soon be published and will bless many people.  I will use my pen name.  I will keep you informed.  Thank you for your prayers.  God bless each one of you.

PRAISE AND WORSHIP POEMS

PRAISE AND WORSHIP POEMS

'MORNING-SONG PRAISE'

This morning, I saw tree branches

With lush leaves

Sweep skyward

‘Till it seemed as though

All in unison had been lifted

By the wind

In praise to Thee

Thank you, Lord

For the peace and quiet

Of your gentle Spirit

For the enormity of Your love

And for the joy of Your sweet presence

Thank You for Your voice that whispers, “Come unto Me.”

                                               © 2/2012 Carol Castagna

'WINTER STATEMENT'

                            

Ice-covered branches 
Drenched in frost
 Dripping in daybreak
  Presiding against a backdrop
 Of  Tchaikovsky's Waltz

I marvel at your Winter Statement, Lord

At Your Winter Statement
 Of Sight and of Sound 

And of the Great I Am!
             This morning, in humble gratitude             
              I Praise You! 

                                           Carol Castagna  © October, 2012

                                        

'NIGHT IN SPRING'

I'm here Lord, with You this starry night

Listening to the ocean roar

Watching white waves emerge, mammoth

Then quiet....

Flowing, as it were, toward the sand, to sleep

I'm surrounded by Your greatness, Lord

This vast sea before me

The moon wanting only to remain in this moment

The wind caressing me gently...

In awe, I stand before you

Creator of heaven and earth!

                                                                                    Carol Castagna © 2/2012

'LISTEN TO THE QUIET'

A poem of peace and God’s quiet assurance

Listen to the Quiet

I love this moment in time

Weeping willows dancing in sweet abandon

Against an azure sky

Tomorrow will wait

An oriole walks on the grass to my porch and chirps a song

Written just for me - This moment knows no sorrow

Raindrops glide down my face and

Hush speaks sleep to the pond

Listen to the sweet, sweet sound of silence –

  

No cares -  No Strife

Not here

During this moment of quiet splendor...

Only Jesus - only sunshine - only cool, cool water

 Sunshine and dew drops and peace....

At this moment in time...

Listen to the Quiet

He is everywhere.

                             Carol Castagna  ©2/2012

     'i asked, he answered'

                      Song lyrics of thanksgiving and praise            

.

I asked, He answered

I sought, I found

I knocked and the door

Opened wide for me

I asked, He answered

I sought, I found

His mercy is limitless

His faithfulness ever abounds

                                                  Carol Castagna  ©2/2012

John 4:14

…but whosoever shall drink of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst again; this water shall be a well of water springing up into everlasting life.

'THE TOUCH OF THE MASTER'S HAND' a poem by Myra Brooks Welch

                                                A Gem of Poetry in Dad's Old Book

This morning, I would like to share a poem written by Myra Brooks Welch.  I found it as a newspaper clipping in my Dad's very old copy of Poems That Touch the Heart by A.L. Alexander, a book filled with lovely poems...My Dad loved poetry.







The Touch of the Master's Hand
     by Myra Brooks Welch

"'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while.
To waste much time on the old violin,
But held it up with a smile:
"What am I bidden, good folk," he cried,
"Who'll start the bidding for me?"
"A dollar, a dollar," then, "Two!"  "only two?"
"Two dollars and who'll make it three?"
Three dollars, once;  three dollars, twice;
Going for three!  And who'll make it three?"__. But no,
From the  room, far back, a gray-haired man
Came forward, and picked up the bow;
Then, wiping the dust from the old Violin,
He played a melody pure and sweet,
As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer said,
"What am I bid for the old Violin?
A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?
Two thousand and who'll make it three?"
Three thousand once; three thousand twice,
And going and gone," said he.
The people cheered but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand.
"What changed it's worth?"  Swift came the reply:
"The touch of a master's hand."



And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
A "mess of pottage, a glass of wine;
A game"___ and he travels on.
He is "going" once, and "going" twice,
He's "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 Master's hand."












Every soul, whether the body is dressed in riches or rags, is precious in the eyes of the Lord.  Every willing soul  at the Master's command is made new and whole and forgiven of sin by "the touch of the Master's hand.." c.c.
                                                     
Thanks to Myra Brooks Welch for her beautiful words.