My God, my Portion, and my Love,
My everlasting All,
I’ve none but thee in heaven above,
Or on this earthly ball.
What empty things are all the skies,
And this interior clod!
There’s nothing here deserves my joys,
There’s nothing like my God.
To thee I owe my wealth, and friends,
And health, and safe abode:
Thanks to thy name for meaner things;
But they are not my God.
How vain a toy is glittering wealth,
If once compared to thee!
Or what’s my safety, or my health,
Or all my friends to me?
Were I possessor of the earth,
And called the stars my own,
Without thy graces and thyself,
I were a wretch undone.
Let others stretch their arms like seas
And grasp in all the shore;
Grant me the visits of thy grace,
And I desire no more.
But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal Matt 6:20
MOODY IN A SUNDAY SCHOOL
I remember when I went to California just to try and get a few souls saved on the Pacific coast, I went into a school there and asked, "Have you got some one who can write a plain hand?"
Well, we got up the blackboard, and the lesson upon it proved to be the very text we have to-night. "Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven."
And I said, "Suppose we write upon that board some of the earthly treasures? And we will begin with gold." The teacher readily put down gold, and they all comprehended it, for all had run to that country in the hope of finding it.
"Well, we will put down houses next, and then land. Next we will put down fast horses." They all understood what fast horses were—they knew a good deal more about fast horses than they knew about the kingdom of God. Some of them, I think, actually made fast horses serve as Gods.
"Next we will put down tobacco."
The teacher seemed to shrink at this. "Put it down," said I, "many a man thinks more of tobacco than he does of God."
"Well, then, we will put down rum." He objected to this—didn't like to put it down at all. "Down with it." Many a man will sell his reputation, will sell his home, his wife, his children, everything he has, for rum. It is the God of some men. Many here in Chicago will sell their present and then eternal welfare for it. "Put it down," and down it went.
"Now," said I, "suppose we put down some of the heavenly treasures."
"Put down Jesus to head the list, then Heaven, then River of Life, then Crown of Glory," and went on till the column was filled, and then just drew a line and showed the heavenly and the earthly things in contrast.
My friends, they could not stand comparison. If a man just does that, he cannot but see the superiority of the heavenly over the earthly treasures.
Well, it turned out that the teacher was not a Christian. He had gone to California on the usual hunt—gold; and when he saw the two columns placed side by side, the excellence of the one over the other was irresistible, and he was the first soul God gave me on that Pacific coast. He accepted Christ, and that man came to the station when I was coming away and blessed me for coming to that place.
D. L. Moody