Gleams of the Golden Morning - King’s Heralds The Sweet Old Songs - King’s Heralds and Del Delker My Name In Mother’s Prayer - King’s Heralds My Mother’s Face - Wayne Hooper

Gleams of the Golden Morning - King’s Heralds The Sweet Old Songs - King’s Heralds and Del Delker My Name In Mother’s Prayer - King’s Heralds My Mother’s Face - Wayne Hooper

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Voice Of Prophecy

H.M.S. Richards

“Behold Thy Mother!”


Lift up the trumpet and loud let it ring, Jesus is coming again. Cheer up you pilgrims, be joyful and sing. Jesus is coming again. This is the voice of prophecy, a voice crying in the wilderness of these modern days, prepare ye the way of the Lord. Coming again, coming again, Jesus is coming again.

From our Voice of Prophecy studios in Los Angeles, California, we welcome you to this half hour of inspiration and music transcribed with the King's Heralds, Del Delker, Brad Braley and HMS Richards, the Voice of Prophecy speaker. The golden morning is fast approaching, Jesus soon will come To take his faithful and happy children to their promised home Oh, we see the gleams of the golden morning piercing through this night of gloom. Oh, we see the gleams of the golden morning piercing through this night of gloom. Oh, we see the gleams of the golden morning that will burst the tomb. Our Father which art in Heaven, hear our prayer today for every listener.

Bless the voice of prophecy broadcast to everyone who tunes in. Bless the sick, afflicted and the troubled. Build us up in Christian faith and comfort the hearts of all. We ask in Jesus' name. God, a place where sin cannot molest, near to the heart of God.

Amen. Here is Mr. Richards to bring you again, When My Mother Tucks Me In. How the changing years have borne me, far away from days of home. Now no mother bends above me when the time for sleep has come.

But it gives my poor heart comfort, and it brings me rest within. Just to dream that I'm little, and my mother tucks me in. As I kneel there with my brother by the bed above the stairs, and I hear my gentle mother whisper, boys, Remember prayers. Then she comes and prays beside us. Father, keep them from all sin.

Oh, her kiss is tender, loving, when my mother tucks me in. When at last the evening finds me and life's busy day is done, all the bands of earth that bind me shall be broken 1 by 1. Then, O Lord, be thou my comfort. Calm my soul, thy peace to win. Let me fall asleep as gently as when mother tucked me in.

Thank you, Mr. Richards. This poem also will be included in this month's book offer, A Tribute to Mother. You may request a copy for your own enjoyment by writing to the Voice of Prophecy, Box 55, Los Angeles, California. Ask us to send you a tribute to Mother, addressing your request to the Voice of Prophecy, Box 55, Los Angeles, California.

As you write, remember this broadcast is dedicated to Preaching Christ by Radio and Teaching Christ through our free Bible Correspondence course. Invite a friend to tune in to the Voice of Prophecy next week. Let us on this Mother's Day Recall with Del Delker and the King's Heralds the sweet old songs I heard my mother sing. When the twilight softly gathers and a hush is on the air, when the voice of man and nature seem to pause in quiet prayer. Then among the many whispers that the coming shadows bring, I hear again the sweet old songs I heard my mother sing.

What memories they bring, sweet memories they bring. In my dreams when All the world about is still. I hear again the sweet old songs I heard my mother sing. I heard my mother sing. When other helpers, pain and comforts flee, the birds' bill and comforts flee.

Help of the helpless, O abide with me. By with me. Oh, the sweet old songs I heard my mother sing. What memories they bring sweet memories they bring in my dreams when when all the world about is still, I hear again the sweet old songs I heard my mother sing. I heard my mother sing.

Here now is HMS Richards, the voice of prophecy speaker. His subject, Behold Thy Mother. Among the 7 final sayings of Jesus upon the cross were these words found in John 19, 27, Behold thy mother. Solomon holy words they are, spoken from the bruised lips of Christ, dying on the cross for the sins of the world, to his dear disciple and apostle John. 1 of the most heart-touching descriptions of this scene which I have ever read is found in that great modern commentary on the life of Christ entitled The Desire of Ages by Ellen G.

White. From this we now quote 2 unforgettable paragraphs. Stood his mother, supported by the disciple John. She could not endure to remain away from her son, and John, knowing that the end was near, had brought her again to the cross. In his dying hour, Christ remembered his mother.

Looking into her grief-stricken face and then upon John he said to her, woman, behold thy son. Then to John, behold thy mother. John understood Christ's words. He accepted the trust. At once he took Mary to his home and from that hour cared for her tenderly.

Oh pitiful loving Savior! Amid all his physical pain and mental anguish he had a thoughtful care for his mother. He had no money with which to provide for her comfort, but he was enshrined in the heart of John and he gave his mother to him as a precious legacy. Thus he provided for her that which she most needed, the tender sympathy of 1 who loved her because she loved Jesus. In receiving her as a sacred trust, John was receiving a great blessing.

The perfect example of Christ's filial love shines forth with undimmed luster from the mist of ages. For nearly 30 years Jesus by his daily toil had helped bear the burdens of the home and now even in his last agony he remembers to provide for his sorrowing widowed mother. The same spirit will be seen in every disciple of our Lord. Those who follow Christ will feel that it's a part of their religion to respect and provide for their parents. From the heart where his love is cherished, father and mother will never fail of receiving thoughtful care and tender sympathy.

This ends the quotation. You. Think of what she has done for us. Usually mother is with the children more than father. He is away from home a good deal of the day.

The mother is the first teacher. To her every child can say, I owe my life. Personally I can say that to Mother I owe my understanding of and belief and comfort in God. My first recollection of music was Mother's voice singing the songs of Zion. Her kind, sweet, comforting voice enriched my life.

Truly of her it could be said, in her tongue is the law of kindness. Proverbs 31, 26. I can truly say that I owe my reverence of womanhood to mother. Chiefly to mother also I owe my moral convictions. It was her teachings of right and wrong which first impressed me, and later of course the influence and teachings of father, and later still of Christian ministers and the Holy Bible.

Mothers whispered ambitions for me to be a servant of God and a proclaimer of his gospel changed the whole bent of my life. In times of temptation and trial a memory of mother's face often kept me steady and in school and willing to plot along a little farther. Mother's wise praise along with wise criticism while others merely scoffed, although not always maliciously, strengthened my determination and courage. How much I owe to mother's prayers. Only eternity can tell, only God knows.

But I know that mother's prayers have guided me my whole life through. For that which is finest and most beautiful and noble and spiritual in my life, I thank my brave, faithful, kind, prayerful, never discouraged, God-fearing mother. She made it possible for father to keep the home going through days, months, years of meager income and constant moving from place to place with practically no furniture. With a few wooden boxes, a few tin cans, a little cheap cloth, hammer and nails, and her artistic temperament, mother could make a home almost anywhere. She kept out of the limelight and encouraged Father and all of us in the work and service of God.

I remember 1 Christmas when Father was away from home and Mother had only 15 cents in cash but we had a wonderful Christmas. Some apples, a little popcorn, several pieces of candy, a little bush or branch, a tree, 2 or 3 little candles, but lots of enthusiasm, imagination, kindness, and love. When Mother has done so much for us, we owe so much to her, why should we not pay our tribute to her? Now while we can. Those of us who still have our mothers ought to let them know how we feel about them.

It's mother's great reward when her children arise up and call her blessed. Her husband also and he praiseth her. Proverbs 31.28 I am sure that my brother, who also is a church worker today, will agree with me that mothers praying with us when we were little, as we knelt at the bedside together before we went to sleep, had a great influence on our lives. To hear his name in mother's prayer is a privilege that every child ought to have. ♪♪ ♪ T'was in the days of careless youth, when life was fair and bright, And ne'er a tear, and scarce a fear, O'ercast my day and night.

As in the quiet, even tide. I passed her kneeling there, that Just 1 word, my name I heard, my name in mother's prayer. My name in mother's prayer, my name in mother's prayer. I wandered on and heeded not God's oft-repeated call, repeated not God's oft-repeated call, to turn from sin to live for Him and trust to Him my all. But when at last convinced of sin, I sank in deep despair.

My hope awoke when memories prayer. My name in mother's prayer. My name in mother's prayer. That just 1 word, my name I heard. I heard my name in mother's prayer.

Mother, do you pray with your children. Don't neglect it if you have the opportunity. Since most of the time we had no home of our own and lived in rented quarters and moved here and there and everywhere, while father held evangelistic meetings, we spent many happy months with our grandparents. There in the old white farmhouse near Lake Loveland, Colorado, My brother and I would go to bed soon after sunset. Then Mother would come upstairs and pray with us and tuck us into bed.

That was the high point in our religious history. It always seems so good to me when mother prays. Sometimes I cry and cannot see when mother prays. The angels come down oh so close that I can touch them seams almost, and inside I get warm with joy. I'm sorry then I took Bill's toy.

I want to be a better boy when Mother prays. The ear of heaven bendeth low when mother prays, and I'm better than I know when mother prays. The disappointments of the way, The worry and the toilsome day, the fretfulness and longing cease. Heaven breathes my troubled soul to peace, and love and trust in God increase when mother prays. She loved the Bible.

That made us love it too. Any book that mother loved like that must be wonderful. She memorized great sections of it. In fact today in her age she can repeat many entire books of the Bible. She's still learning more.

By her example and urging, we began to learn the words of the great book long before we could read them. What a privilege for children to learn the words of God's great book. As Henry Van Dyke said, beside the gradle and above the grave, its great words come, uncalled. The word of God taught to children by the voice of Mother. What greater thing is there to teach anywhere at any time?

Of the parents of John the Baptist, the forerunner of Christ, it is said, and they were both righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless. Luke 1.6. And of his mother she was filled with the Holy Ghost. Luke 1.41. No wonder then she had such a son, of whom it could be said, he shall be great in the sight of the Lord, and he shall be filled with the Holy Ghost, even from his mother's womb.

When mothers are really filled with the Holy Spirit, the Children are apt to be likewise. And of our Savior we read that when the fullness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman. Galatians 4.4. Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given. His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.

Yes, God entrusted his own son to a mother. When Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, saw the Virgin Mary, she said, under the inspiration of the Spirit, Blessed is she that believed, for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord. Mother, do you believe? Then your children, no doubt, will believe too. At last, when the judgment is set and the books have been opened and the nations are gathered before the white throne, when the eternal judge himself has pronounced the well done now good and faithful servant And the crown of immortal glory is placed on the brow of the victors.

Many will raise their crowns before the unnumbered multitudes and pointing to their mother will say, through the grace of God, she made me all that I am. Her prayers, her instructions, her unfailing love have been blessed to my eternal salvation. Every mother is a painter, a poet, a sculptor, a builder. Of mother I can say, no masterpiece you painted on ceilings high in Rome. But both your boys remember You lived 1 in our home.

You penned no epic poem that critics might call art, but with a grander vision you wrote 1 in your heart. You carved no Parian marble in sculptured Greek design, but with your loving fingers you shaped this life of mine. You built no white cathedrals by echoed footsteps trod, But in simple faith you made our home a house of God. Not the hand of Raphael nor Michelangelo could paint mother as she is. Only her children know.

And so we say with the words of the Savior, Behold thy mother. Out of the dreams of the long, long ago, Comes a sweet memory that blesses me so. No earthly charm can its glory replace My mother's face, my mother's face. My mother's face, my mother's face, love gave a charm to its beauty. To its beauty.

God made it fair, and though furrowed with care, There is no face like Mother's to me. Let us take hold of the Master's hand, looking up, always going forward in faith. Have faith in God and love 1 another. Have faith in God, father, sister, brother. Have faith in God, soul.

Behold thy mother. Have faith, dear friend, in God. We hope this transcribed program of ours has served to give you blessing today. And we invite you to join us again next week for another broadcast brought to you by the Voice of Prophecy. The Lord bless thee and keep thee.

The Lord make his face shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace. Amen. You

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“Behold Thy Mother!”

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