I thought I'd post this today as the market continues to wavier. As of this morning it was reported that Frances' credit rating might be downgraded from AAA to AA+ which would cause chaos in the European markets. Meanwhile our Congress is on vacation until September, and our President started his vacation with a Ramadan dinner. Why do I feel like I am living in skewed dimension? Did Marty McFly buy another sports almanac? Is Biff running the show. Seems like I woke up on the front porch or something. Seriously though our God knows how to save so I posted this very old poem written either by Bessie or Alice P Moss (who really knows who wrote it) Please ignore the time frame and culture of the times just get the message. It was written around 1928 ish at the time of the market crash. I personally think that if the Lord doesn't return soon the most successful individuals will be the ones who know how to reinvent themselves in business for the future. In the next few years things will change, and how business is done will change, it's time to look to God for direction because His bank ain't busted yet.
GOD'S BANK AIN'T BUSTED YET
By Mrs. Bessie Tichelaar
The bank had closed; my earthly store had vanished from my hand;
I felt there was no sadder one than I in all the land.
My washerwoman, too, had lost her little mite with mine,
And she was singing as she hung the clothes upon the line.
"How can you be so gay?" I asked. "Your loss, don't you regret?"
"Yes, ma'am, but what's the use to fret? "God's bank ain't busted yet."
I felt my burden lighter grow, her faith I seemed to share;
In prayer I went to God's great throne and laid my burden there.
The sun burst from behind the clowds in golden splendor set;
I thanked God for her simple words: "God's bank ain't busted yet."
And now I draw rich dividends, more than my hands can hold,
Of faith and hope, and love and trust, and peace of mind untold.
I thank the Giver of it all, but still I can't forget
My washerwoman's simple words: "God!s bank ain't busted yet."
Oh, weary one upon life's road, when everythin seems drear,
And losses loom on every side, and skies are not so clear;
Throw back your shoulders, lift your head and cease to chafe and fret.
Your dividends will be declared; "God's bank ain't busted yet"
