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					  He Made Himself of No Reputation
                 Philippians 2:7
                                                                  Girded to Serve
 There dwelt with glory veiled, the Son of God
   For thirty years, in that enclosure green
      Of Galilean hills, the Power serene          Girded to serve, the Lord of Glory stands,
  Who framed the Universe, and with a nod          The basin and the towel in His hands;
  Sent planets on their courses, meekly trod       Pours out the water, bondman-like, and then
The village streets and lanes; and might be seen   He stoops to wash the feet of fallen men.
     Over His humble handicraft to lean;
  Or pace in prayer the dewy mountain sod.         The myriad hosts of heaven downward gaze
      O mystery of Godliness how great!            Upon the scene in reverend amaze
    Obedience of a lifetime how complete!          To see the One they served with veiled face
   Who now can murmur at His low estate            Girded to serve among a fallen race.
  Or who but feel the humblest duty sweet:         Fallen in pride of heart, that thought it wise
 When “Is not this the carpenter?” was heard       To grasp a bauble “pleasant to the eyes”;
  Of Him Who built all things with a word!         Girded to serve, He wipes their feet, Who came
                                                   To raise the fallen by a cross of shame.

                                                   Son of the Father’s love, He stoops to show
                                                   The mind, the heart of God to men so low.
                                                   ‘Mongst all the sons of pride earth e’er begat
                                                   Who ever thought that heaven was like that?

                                                   O lovely lowliness! ennobling grace
                                                   That fills with heaven’s best earth’s lowest place!
                                                   O but to hold to this, nor from it swerve -
                                                   Girded to serve, my soul, girded to serve.
                                                                                      I.Y. Ewan




             Philip Doddridge
“I was only a worthless pebble
  Upon the beach of time,
Yet He stooped and declared to Heaven,
  ‘I have made this pebble Mine.’
And this is why I serve Him,
  As I think of that crowded beach,
and shudder that when He was passing,
  I might have been out of reach,
And left like the other pebbles,
  To never be touched by His hand,
And tossed by the waves in life’s ocean,
  And buried at last in the sand.”
                        G. Albert Ramsay
         “...And They Shall See His Face”
                                Rev. 22:4


   Face to face in yonder glory       Not the brightness of that morning,
   Blissful moment yet to come,           Nor the glory of that place,
When the Lord Himself returning       These are not the chief attraction,
 Gathers all His ransomed home;         I would see my Saviour’s face;
Face to face with Christ my Saviour     All I have His bounty gave me,
     All His loveliness to see,         And my presence there above
  In the Father’s house for ever,       Is the crowning proof for ever
        Blest for all eternity.         Of His own unchanging love.




                                                                            Philip Doddridge

				
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