do good!!

{pictures from our Sunday afternoon drive.  it is lovely here.}

we sang "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief" for our morning devotional today.
before we sang, i read Matthew 25:31-40 and Mosiah 2:17.  I also read the History of the Church vol. 6 pg. 614-615
Right before the prophet Joseph Smith was killed in Carthage jail (with his brother), he asked his friend, John Taylor, to sing this song to him, twice.
We are related to Willard Richards who was also in the jail that night.

This song is beautiful.
I cried as i sang it...
When we give-- EVEN WHILE WE ARE IN NEED-- we will be blessed.

A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief

Peacefully

1. A poor, wayfaring Man of grief

Hath often crossed me on my way,

Who sued so humbly for relief

That I could never answer nay.

I had not pow’r to ask his name,

Whereto he went, or whence he came;

Yet there was something in his eye

That won my love; I knew not why.

2. Once, when my scanty meal was spread,

He entered; not a word he spake,

Just perishing for want of bread.

I gave him all; he blessed it, brake,

And ate, but gave me part again.

Mine was an angel’s portion then,

For while I fed with eager haste,

The crust was manna to my taste.

. I spied him where a fountain burst

Clear from the rock; his strength was gone.

The heedless water mocked his thirst;

He heard it, saw it hurrying on.

I ran and raised the suff’rer up;

Thrice from the stream he drained my cup,

Dipped and returned it running o’er;

I drank and never thirsted more.

4. ’Twas night; the floods were out; it blew

A winter hurricane aloof.

I heard his voice abroad and flew

To bid him welcome to my roof.

I warmed and clothed and cheered my guest

And laid him on my couch to rest,

Then made the earth my bed and seemed

In Eden’s garden while I dreamed.

5. Stript, wounded, beaten nigh to death,

I found him by the highway side.

I roused his pulse, brought back his breath,

Revived his spirit, and supplied

Wine, oil, refreshment—he was healed.

I had myself a wound concealed,

But from that hour forgot the smart,

And peace bound up my broken heart.

6. In pris’n I saw him next, condemned

To meet a traitor’s doom at morn.

The tide of lying tongues I stemmed,

And honored him ’mid shame and scorn.

My friendship’s utmost zeal to try,

He asked if I for him would die.

The flesh was weak; my blood ran chill,

But my free spirit cried, “I will!”

7. Then in a moment to my view

The stranger started from disguise.

The tokens in his hands I knew;

The Savior stood before mine eyes.

He spake, and my poor name he named,

“Of me thou hast not been ashamed.

These deeds shall thy memorial be;

Fear not, thou didst them unto me.”

Text: James Montgomery, 1771–1854

Music: George Coles, 1792–1858, alt.

Hymn sung prior to the martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph Smith. See History of the Church, 6:614–15.

Matthew 25:31–40 Mosiah 2:17

i want to serve more.

this summer i want to "forget myself and go to work."

a friend told me this quote--
You can choose CHARITY or choose CRUD.
we will stretch and learn one way or another-- choose charity or choose crud.  it's your choice.
i guess i would add-- choose charity and you won't feel your crud.
everyone has hard, serving others somehow gives us "an angel portion", a different perspective, a lighter load.

we can do much good in our little sphere of influence.
starting with our family... then our extended family... then our neighbors and friends... then our whole world.
we can do much good.

{there are some darling farm houses along this road... and there was a cute couple taking a stroll.
don't you want to retire to a road like this?  i do.}

i know it.