Life is terminal; something will get you in the end.- Elliott Larson M.D.

Tolerance comes with age. I see no fault committed that I myself could not have committed at some time or other.-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

How Can Such a Man Be Just Before God?
"Their righteousness is from Me!" Isaiah 54:17
The longer the Christian lives--the more he learns. And the more the Spirit teaches him--the more he loathes himself and renounces his own righteousness as filthy rags.
He hoped sensibly . . .
to grow in holiness,
to feel his corruptions subdued, and
to enjoy the presence of his God without interruption.
But instead of this:
he seems to grow more like Satan,
his corruption appears to get stronger and stronger, and
the depravity of his nature appears more and more dreadful!
He thinks himself to be a monster of iniquity, and wonders how God can possibly love him, or show any favor unto him.
Yet, this heart-felt experience . . .
endears God's free grace,
renders Christ unspeakably precious,
and the gift of righteousness invaluable!
How can such a man be just before God? Where is his righteousness to come from? Jehovah answers, "His righteousness is from Me!"
Jesus wrought it;
the Father imputes it to us;
the gospel reveals it; and
faith receives it, puts it on, and pleads it before God.
Precious Jesus! in You alone, I have righteousness and strength!
James Smith, "The Pastor's Morning Visit"

Finally, a poem about the area where I live, Perivale, Middlesex now in the Borough of Ealing, London.

Gaily into Ruislip Gardens
Runs the red electric train,
With a thousand Ta's and Pardon's
Daintily alights Elaine;
Hurries down the concrete station
With a frown of concentration,
Out into the outskirt's edges
Where a few surviving hedges
Keep alive our lost Elysium - rural Middlesex again..

Well cut Windsmoor flapping lightly,
Jacqmar scarf of mauve and green
Hiding hair which, Friday nightly,
Delicately drowns in Drene;
Fair Elaine the bobby-soxer,
Fresh-complexioned with Innoxa,
Gains the garden - father's hobby -
Hangs her Windsmoor in the lobby,
Settles down to sandwich supper and the television screen.

Gentle Brent, I used to know you
Wandering Wembley-wards at will,
Now what change your waters show you
In the meadowlands you fill!
Recollect the elm-trees misty
And the footpaths climbing twisty
Under cedar-shaded palings,
Low laburnum-leaned-on railings
Out of Northolt on and upward to the heights of Harrow hill.

Parish of enormous hayfields
Perivale stood all alone,
And from Greenford scent of mayfields
Most enticingly was blown
Over market gardens tidy,
Taverns for the bona fide,
Cockney singers, cockney shooters,
Murray Poshes, Lupin Pooters,
Long in Kensal Green and Highgate silent under soot and stone.
John Betjeman, Middlesex,From "A Few Late Chrysanthemums" (1954) & "Collected Poems"


Graham J Weeks M.R.Pharm.S
http://www.christiansquoting.org.uk 10201 quotes 654 topics 2452 authors
http://www.ipc-ealing.co.uk/ Our church
http://groups.yahoo.com/subscribe/Christiansquoting Daily quotes
http://christianquoter.blogspot.com/ My blog
http://iuhuru.com/category/columnists/graham-weeks/ - my weekly column
-----------------------------
Question reality. Question authority.
-----------------------------