Owingsville outlook. [volume] (Owingsville, Ky.) 1879-192?, 1897-03-04

Bible distinctly says ths! God know;
the weight of the great ranges that
cross the continents, the tons; the
pounds avoirdupois, the ounces, the
grains, the millegramines-jus how
much they weighed then, Just how
much they weigh nav. lie weighed
the mountains in scales and the hills
in balance" Oh! what a God to run
against, oh! what God to dishonor.
oh! what God to defy. The bright
est, the mightiest angel takes no famil-
iarity with Col. The wings of rever-
ence are lifted. with twain he COW
cred the face"
Another scraphic posture in the text.
The scra phi must not always sit and be
still. Ii. must move, AMI it must be
with,0t clumsiness There must be-
celebrity and beauty in the movement.
with twain he did fly." Correction,
cXhilcration. Correction at our slow
gait, for we only crawl in the serv ice
when we ought to fly at the divine bid.
ing. Exhilaration in the fact that the
soul has wings as the seraphs have
wings. What is "A wing? An instru-
like scraph's wing, they may not be
like birds wing, but tho soul has wings.
God says 50 ''lIe sail mount up
on wings as eagles" We are made in
the divine image, and God has wings.
The Bible says so. Healing in His
wings Under whose wings hast
thou come to trust" The soul with
fol .cd wing now, wounded wing, bro
ken. bleeding wing, Gagged wing. Ave.
] have it now. Gagged within bars of
bone and under curtains of flesh but
one da" to be free. hear the rustic
Of pinions in Ssagravc's poem, which
we sometimes sing:
Rise. my soul, and stretch thy W gs
hear the rustic of pinions in Alex
andcr Pope's stanzl, where he says:
mount. I fs
TN. Death. where IS thu victory
A dying Christian not long ago cried
out, Wings, wings, wings" The air
is full of them, coming and going.
coming and going. Iou have seen how
the dull, sluggish chrySalis be comes the
bright butterfly; the dull and the stu
pid and the lcthargic turned into the
alert and beautiful. Well, my friends,
in this world we are in the chrysalid
state. Death will unfurl the wings.
Oh, il we could only realize what n
grand thing it will be to get rid of this
old clod OF the body aud mount the
heavens, neither scagull nor lark nor
| albatross nor falcon, nor condor pitch
ing from highest range of Andes so
buoyant or SO majestic of stroke.
See that eagle in the mount
ain nest II looks SO sick, 80
ragged feathercd, 80 worn out and
SO half asleep Is that eagle dy-
ing? No. The ornithologist will tell
you it is the moulting season with that
bird. Not dying, but mounting. You
see that Christian sick and weary and
worn-out and seeming about to expire
on what is called his death bed. The
world says he is dying. say it is the
moulting season for his soul--the bod !
dropping away, the celestial pinions
coming on. Not dying. but moulting.
Moulting out of darkness and sin and
struggle into glory and into Col. Why
do you not shout? Why do you SIT
| shivering at the thought of death and
| trying to hold back and Wishing you
could stay here forever. and speak of
departure as though the subject were
| filled with skeletons and the varnish
of collins, and as though you preferrc l
lame foot to swift wing?
Opeople of God, let us stop playing
the fool and prepare for Il rapturou !,
flight When your soul stands on the
verge of this life, and there are vast
precipices beneath, and sapphired
domcs above, which way will you fly?
Will you swoop or will you Soar? Will
you fly downward or will you fly up
ward? Everything on the wing this
day bidding us aspire, Holy Spirit on
the wing. lime on the wing. flying
away from us. Eternity on the wing
| dying toward us. Wings. wings,
| wings,