Heaven's Roll - February 2, 1956

They played the fool as many do,

They made a god of gold;

Their names were blotted out, we're told,

From heaven's record roll.

Sometimes the record which we keep,

Is not like heaven's Book;

For oft a man's name may appear,

Who is naught but a crook.

God's record is the one that counts,

For only those we're told;

Can enter through the pearly gates,

Whose names are on His roll.

God is the same, He changeth not,

Our names cannot appear;

Upon His Book if we endulge,

In sin while we are here.

Unto a woman deep in sin,

A message was conveighed;

Yea, "Go and sin no more," said He,

That is the only way;

That you and I can be secure,

Can know beyond a doubt;

Our names are written on God's Book,

And are not blotted out.

~ J. J. Davis ~

God's Plan - January 31, 1956

Some things we may not understand,

But this one thing is clear;

We reap the things which we have sown,

In joy or bitter tears.

God made us good, just like Himself,

And planned that we should sow;

His righteousness day after day,

That nobly we should grow.

We failed the Lord in His good plan,

Forbidden fruit we ate;

And thus the penalty of death,

Became our final fate.

God loved us with such tender love,

A council thus was called;

And in the council plans were made,

To save us from the fall.

In brief the story may be told,

God gave His only Son;

That man might have a second chance,

The race of life to run.

Not as a fool to lose his soul, 

But as a soldier brave;

Believing in the Son of God,

By whom we now are saved.

~ J. J. Davis ~

How Wonderful to be Alive - January 30, 1956

Photo by: Lucrecia Mouser

How wonderful to be alive, 

And in good favor dear;

With the Eternal One above,

To feel Him ever near.

We cannot conquer sin alone,

We must have help from Him;

Who wore a robe, a seamless robe,

A robe without a hem.

When God controls our every mood,

And warms our souls with love;

It beautifies the soul and makes,

It gentle as a dove.

How wonderful, how glorious,

The Christian way of life;

It is so pure and noble, too,

So free from every strife.

How wonderful to be alive,

To know that all is well;

With the immortal soul, my dear,

No tongue can fully tell;

The glory of a conscience free,

So free from every guilt;

Made possible by Gods own Son,

 Whose blood was freely spilt.

~ J. J. Davis ~

Choice - January 29, 1956

The devil now is on the march,

To find some soul to blight;

His march continues day by day,

And throughout all the night.

The King of kings also my dear,

Upon His white horse rides;

To spread the gospel, pure and good,

Of God who satisfies.

Man is a creature who may choose,

Which master to adore;

And when his choice shall have been made,

He then begins his score.

If righteousness shall be his lot,

Like leaven he will find;

A lift to boost the whole of life,

The body, soul and mind.

If sin shall be his choice, my dear,

Then unto him be woe;

For it is true that he shall reap,

The things which he shall sow.

And when he comes to cross the bar.

How dark and dreary then;

For he shall be forever damned,

His final score in sin.

~ J. J. Davis ~