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Hymn of the Week – Todavรญa, Seรฑor

Music and lyrics by Robert Brown
Free MP3 recording by Antonio Shappley (more such recordings may be had from Alabanzas.info)

Todavรญa, Seรฑor, hay un gran conflicto en mรญ,
Entre lados opuestos de mi ser:
Hay un “yo” egoรญsta que no se rinde a ti,
Y otro “yo” que te quiere obedecer.

Todavรญa, Seรฑor, no soy lo que debo ser;
Tรบ mereces de mi vida lo mejor;
Pero gracias a ti, que por tu poder y amor,
Ya no soy lo que era, Seรฑor.

You may have noticed that this week’s hymn is in Spanish. This is because I am leaving this week to go to a Bible lectureship in Matamoros, Tamaulipas, Mexico, and I thought I would share one of my favourite hymns in Spanish. For those who can’t read Spanish, here’s a translation:

Lord, there is still a great conflict within me,
Between opposite sides of my being:
There’s a selfish “me” that doesn’t submit itself to You,
And another “me” that wants to obey You.

Lord, I’m still not what I should be;
You deserve the best of my life;
But thanks to You, because of Your power and love,
I’m not what I used to be, Lord.

The Importance of Genealogy

My parents talking to my grandpa at the cemetery in Tyrone, OklahomaAs I write, I am travelling home through the panhandle of Texas after a full weekend spent with my relatives on my fatherโ€™s side of the family. Itโ€™s been two years since our last family reunion, and this one was particularly special because it was held in the region where that family is from, and where my father and grandpa were born: Liberal, Kansas and Tyrone, Oklahoma. I canโ€™t really say that the Bruces originated there, however. They lived in Springtown, Texas before then (which happens to be in my home county of Parker), from which place they travelled north by covered wagon to their new home in the Oklahoma panhandle. And before that, the family lived in Tennessee, and before that they were in North Carolina, and before that, somewhere in Europe (my unproved Internet sources tell me Languedoc, France). But regardless, it is in Texas County, Oklahoma, that the old Bruce home place may be found, as well as the old Bowers house. And it is that land that holds the most memories for my grandpa and his siblings who were our guides to the past during this weekend.

During the past two years since the last family reunion, one of my great aunts has been working on a book, which has been completed and was presented during this reunion. It is entitled Baby Turkeys in the Oven, and is a compilation of stories from my great grandpaโ€™s family, as well as a good deal of genealogy. I have only had a chance to glance through it so far, but it promises to be very interesting and informative. A very unique quilt was also presented, the centre of which was a large, white five-pointed star. This represented my great grandpa and great grandma, E. F. and Geraldine Bruce. I knew Grandma Bruce in her old age, when she was living with my great aunt. By that time she had become like a small childโ€”she couldnโ€™t remember or say much, but she loved playing with her dolls. Even so, I am glad that I was able to see her before she passed on. Grandpa Bruce, on the other hand, died in the 1970s, before I was even born. Read More

The Old, Old Story

From Ailenrocโ€™s Book, by Cornelia Alexander

Twilight throws her dusty mantle
Over earth and over sea,
And the gentle dews are falling
On the flowers that dot the lea.

The bright stars are looking downward,
And the moon resplendent shines,
Making dewdrops sparkle brilliant
As the gems that fill the mines.

There is one who just has left her;
Long years she has loved him well,
But his words to-night have filled her
With a bliss she cannot tell.

Yes, he told the old, old story;
But to her โ€˜twas strange and new.
Now the world seems doubly glorious,
Sparkling through its veil of dew.

Hymn of the Week – O Master, Let Me Walk With Thee

Music: Henry P. Smith (1874)
Poetry: Washington Gladden (1879)
Cyber Hymnal entry
Audio recording (from the television programme “In Search of the Lord’s Way“)

O Master, let me walk with Thee,
In lowly paths of service free;
Tell me Thy secret; help me bear
The strain of toil, the fret of care.

Help me the slow of heart to move
By some clear, winning word of love;
Teach me the wayward feet to stay,
And guide them in the homeward way.

In hope that sends a shining ray
Far down the futureโ€™s broadening way,
In peace that only Thou canst give,
With Thee, O Master, let me live.