"The sands of time are strewn with the wrecks of the broken lives of many, who were once mightily used of God, but who suffered shipwreck upon the rocks of SPIRITUAL PRIDE."      Paul Billheimer


The Builder

An old man, traveling a lone highway,
Came, at the evening, cold and gray
To a chasm, deep and wide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim,
For the sullen stream held no fears for him.
But he paused as he reached the other side,
And built a bridge to span the tide.
"Old man," cried a fellow pilgrim near,
You’re wasting your strength in building here,
Your journey will end at the ending day
And you never again will pass this way.
You have crossed the chasm, deep and wide-
Why build you a bridge at eventide?"
The builder raised his old gray head,
"Good friend, on the path I have come," he said;
"There followeth after me today-
A youth whose feet must pass this way
"This stream which has been naught to me,
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I’m building the bridge for Him."

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