For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle
were dissolved, we have a building of God,
an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

II Corinthians 5:1


By Marilyn McAuley

A little girl was visiting her grandmother in the country.
One evening they sat and enjoyed the panorama of stars
in the heavens--such sparkling brilliance the little girl
hadn't seen, living in the city with all the lights.
She was in awe of the beauty and said to her grandmother,
"If heaven is so beautiful on the wrong side,
what must it be like on the right side?"

Come, Ye Disconsolate

Thomas Moore, vs. 1,2
Thomas Hastings, v.3
Samuel Webbe

Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish,
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.

Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure!
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
“Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot cure.”

Here see the bread of life, see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God, pure from above.
Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing
Earth has no sorrow but heaven can remove.

Here are Moore’s original lyrics:

Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish,
Come, at the shrine of God fervently kneel;
Here bring your wounded hearts; here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.

Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
Hope when all others die, fadeless and pure;
Here speaks the Comforter, in God’s name saying,
“Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot cure.”


In the land of fadeless day,
Lies “the city foursquare,”
It shall never pass away,
And there is “no night there.”


God shall “wipe away all tears”
There’s no death, no pain, nor fears;
And they count not time by years,
For there is “no night there.”

All the gates of pearl are made,
In “the city foursquare,”
All the streets with gold are laid,
And there is “no night there.”


All the gates shall never close,
To “the city foursquare,”
There life’s crystal river flows,
And there is “no night there.”


There they need no sunshine bright,
In “that city foursquare,”
For the Lamb is all the light,
And there is “no night there.”

I Said, "God I hurt."
And God said, "I Know."
I Said, "God I cry a lot."
And God said, 
"That is why I gave you tears."
I Said, "God I am so depressed."
And God said, 
"That is why I gave you sunshine."
I Said, "God life is so hard." 
And God said, 
"That is why I gave you loved ones."
I Said, "God my loved one died." 
And God said, "So did mine."
I Said, "God, it is such a loss." 
And God said, 
"I saw mine nailed to a cross."
I Said, "God, but your loved one lives." 
And God said, "So does yours."
I Said, "God, where are they now?" 
And God said, "Mine is on My right side
and yours is in the Light."
I Said, "God, it hurts." 
And God said, "I know."


“I will commune with thee from above the mercy seat.”
Exodus 25:22

Words: Hugh Stowell, in The Winter’s Wreath,
a Collection of Original Contributions
in Prose and Verse, 1828.
Stowell re­wrote & republished the words in 1831.
Music: “Retreat,” Thomas Hastings, 1842

From every stormy wind that blows,
From every swelling tide of woes,
There is a calm, a sure retreat;
’Tis found beneath the mercy seat.

There is a place where Jesus sheds
The oil of gladness on our heads;
A place than all besides more sweet;
It is the blood bought mercy seat.

There is a scene where spirits blend,
Where friend holds fellowship with friend;
Though sundered far, by faith they meet
Around one common mercy seat.

There, there, on eagles’ wings we soar,
And time and sense seem all no more;
And heaven comes down, our souls to greet,
And glory crowns the mercy seat.

Oh, let my hand forget her skill,
My tongue be silent, cold, and still,
This bounding heart forget to beat,
If I forget the mercy seat.

I Thessalonians 4:13-18
13 But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren,
concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not,
even as others which have no hope.

14 For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again,
even so them also which sleep in Jesus
will God bring with him.

15 For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord,
that we which are alive and remain unto the coming
of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep.

16 For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven
with a shout, with the voice of the archangel,
and with the trump of God:
and the dead in Christ shall rise first:

17 Then we which are alive and remain
shall be caught up together with them
in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air:
and so shall we ever be with the Lord.

18 Wherefore comfort one another with these words.


Albert E. Brumley

I will meet you in the morning,
By the bright riverside,
When all sorrow has drifted away;
I'll be standing at the portals,
When the gates open wide,
At the close of life's long, dreary day.
I'll meet you in the morning with a "How do you do,"
And we'll sit down by the river,
And with rapture auld acquaintance renew.
You'll know me in the morning,
By the smiles that I wear,
When I meet you in the morning
In the city that is built foursquare.

I will meet you in the morning,
in the sweet by and by,
And exchange the old cross for a crown;
There'll be no disappointments and nobody shall die,
In that land, When life's sun goeth down.

I will meet you in the morning,
at the end of the way,
On the streets of that city of gold;
Where we all can be together and be happy for aye,
While the years and the ages shall roll.

Romans 8:35

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?
Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution,
or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

Romans 8:38,39

For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life,
nor angels, nor principalities,
nor powers, nor things present,
nor things to come, nor height,
nor depth, nor any other creature,
shall be able to separate us from the love of God,
which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Read the poem, "Say It Now."

Read "A Psalm of Life"
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
written three years after his wife died.
Time had not softened his grief. He had no heart for anything.
But this could not go on, he told himself! He was letting
the days slip by, nursing his despondency. Life was not
an empty dream. He must be up and doing. Suddenly he was
writing in a surge of inspiration,
the lines coming almost too quickly for his racing pen.
The poem has helped the weary, unhappy, and discouraged
to be "up and doing, with a heart for any fate."

My Purple Irises Lake Applet
with "The Lord is My Shepherd."

Stories and Poems from "Motivate Us"

The Shelley Beasley Memorial Pages

Kelly Swain Blades Memorial Page

My Parents Are Survivors

Thank You!

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