September 24, 2020 (Thursday)
Musings on my birthday:
Talking to myself: “Oldtimer, you are now 89 years old.
You know what that means? It means you are beginning to live your 90th year on this earth.” Pardon me while I respond to myself: “I hope I make it to 90, but, if not, I can still be thankful for a wonderful life. Meanwhile, I plan to enjoy being ‘only’ 89.”
Think about it. I was born in 1931, when the entire world was living through the hard times known as “The Great Depression.” Since the stock market crash two years before in 1929, the times had grown worse. The optimistic view of life when I was born was that sooner or later, happier days would arrive. “Life has to get better; it can’t get much worse.”
As I grew up, I was aware that our family was not rich, but somehow I never thought of myself as “poor.” Actually, there were many people in Houston who were poor enough to be called, “needy.” We were not “needy”–we were just “poor.” All over the country there were people without homes who were desperately trying to find work. We were not among those unfortunate ones.
There was another side of town where rich people lived, but we never knew anything about that. “Spiritual riches,” however, was a different story. When I was a senior in high school, four of us boys formed a quartet in our church. One of the songs we sang was, “The Riches of Love.” The chorus was, “Oh, the depth of the riches of love, the riches of love in Christ Jesus. Far better than gold or wealth untold are the riches of love in Christ Jesus.”* I knew about those precious riches then, and I still know about them today.
My sisters and I lived with my mother’s parents after our parents divorced. I recall one day when my father came by the house, seated us in his car, and took us to a cut rate department store nearby, and bought us all new shoes for the year–tennis shoes. I went to school barefoot on many days, just like other boys of my neighborhood. I am reminded of an old Depression story about a little boy who said goodnight to the preacher who was a guest that night: “Preacher, if you need something you can’t find, just let us know and we’ll show you how to get along without it.”
Those were the days, my friends.
“Time marches on,” and time’s old plow uncovered many good things along the way, so I can gladly say, “It has been a wonderful life.” The Lord came into my life and He has been with me all the way to this day. His blessings have been beyond measure, both material and spiritual. I wrote about the early days of poverty to illustrate why I rejoice in a life in which the Lord has made all the difference. Many of you can share memories that tell the same story.
Thank you, Lord. I know I’m just fine in your hands of love. Have your own way, Lord.
Have Thine Own Way, Lord
Adelaide A. Pollard
1907
Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way!
Thou art the Potter, I am the clay.
Mold me and make me after Thy will,
While I am waiting, yielded and still.
Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way!
Search me and try me, Master, today!
Whiter than snow, Lord, wash me just now,
As in Thy presence humbly I bow.
Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way!
Wounded and weary, help me, I pray!
Power, all power, surely is Thine!
Touch me and heal me, Savior divine.
Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way!
Hold o’er my being absolute sway!
Fill with Thy Spirit till all shall see
Christ only, always, living in me.