Zylmor, Dromdrevc and life as it is

Writing - both fiction and non-fiction, really bad poetry, photos, paintings and stuff


Bloggers - Meet Millions of Bloggers

Feb 15, 2013

"I'm going out to see my Father's world"

Maltbie Davenport Babcock, has a wonderful name, and was a hymnwriter and pastor in the 19th century, He wrote one of the most beautiful 'creation' hymns I have ever heard and is based on the title of this essay, his phrase when he went out for a walk. 

What a beautiful phrase!

"I'm going out to see my Father's world"

A biography written in 1910 says this of him:

"Babcock was preeminently a preacher. He was a clear thinker and a fluent speaker, with a marvelous personal magnetism which appealed to all classes of people, and the influence of which became in a sense national. His theology was broad and deep, yet without a touch of present-day uncertainty. Added to the genius of spirituality he had the genius of work, and it was owing to his unselfish devotion to the great work of uplifting mankind that he literally wore himself out and died at the early age of forty-two. Noted for his impartial charity, he reached people in countless ways and exerted everywhere a remarkable personal magnetism. While he published no books he may be said to have 'lived, or sung his thoughts'.

He had a skillset that pastors of mega churches today strive for but this guy was not interested in fame only to aid people in coming to faith. He reached across social class, gender, race.

View

This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears

All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.

This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought

Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;

His hand the wonders wrought.

 

This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,

The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker’s praise.

This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair;

In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;

He speaks to me everywhere.

 

This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget

That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.

This is my Father’s world: the battle is not done:

Jesus Who died shall be satisfied,

And earth and Heav’n be one.

 

This is my Father’s world, dreaming, I see His face.

I ope my eyes, and in glad surprise cry, “The Lord is in this place.”

This is my Father’s world, from the shining courts above,

The Beloved One, His Only Son,

Came—a pledge of deathless love.

 

This is my Father’s world, should my heart be ever sad?

The lord is King—let the heavens ring. God reigns—let the earth be glad.

This is my Father’s world. Now closer to Heaven bound,

For dear to God is the earth Christ trod.

No place but is holy ground.

 

This is my Father’s world. I walk a desert lone.

In a bush ablaze to my wondering gaze God makes His glory known.

This is my Father’s world, a wanderer I may roam

Whate’er my lot, it matters not,

My heart is still at home.

No comments: