We leave Tuesday for Paraguay. I'm looking to touch God's heart amid the building, painting, worship and fellowship, and to hopefully touch someone else's heart to seek Him and know Him better.
This is a poem by Jeanne Guyon.
'Tis not the skill of human art,
Which gives me power my God to know;
The sacred lessons of the heart
Come not from instruments below.
Love is my teacher, He can tell
The wonders that He learnt above:
No other master knows so well; -
This Love alone can tell of Love.
Oh! then, of God if thou wouldst learn,
His wisdom, goodness, glory see;
All human arts and knowledge spurn,
Let Love alone thy teacher be.
Love is my master. When it breaks,
The morning light, with rising ray,
To thee, O God! my spirit wakes,
And Love instructs it all the day.
And when the gleams of day retire,
And midnight spreads its dark control,
Love's secret whispers still inspire
Their holy lessons in the soul.
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