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Guy's Song (KJV)

  • 4500

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  • Full Text: Read full text below
  • Format: Folded Tract
  • Paper: Gloss Text
  • Size: 3.5 inches x 5.5 inches
  • Pages: 6
  • Version: KJV
  • Estimated shipping date: Monday, December 26 (Click for more details)

The full text of this tract is shown below in the KJV version. Do you want to print this tract in a different version than the one listed? Contact us and let us know what you're looking for—we may be able to create the alternate version for you at no charge.

Tears trickled down Guy’s cheeks. His eyes were red from crying. Pulling his handkerchief from his hip pocket, Guy wiped the tears as he descended the stairs for breakfast.

What is wrong with Guy? It is unusual for him to cry. He has experienced many heartaches in life, but he usually doesn’t cry, Lucy thought.

Is he sick? Is his arthritis hurting? Why is he weeping?

Birds were chirping on this early spring morning in the apple belt of West Virginia. The apple trees were in bloom. From a distance the trees seemed to glisten as if they were capped with snow. Sun rays streamed brightly through the fresh, clean white curtains in the kitchen. Now and then a robin perched on the window sill outside the kitchen. Indoors the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and hot pancakes filled the air.

Flipping the pancake in the iron skillet, Lucy decided that Guy’s arthritis must really be stirred up. Guy wasn’t himself at all. There was no joy as he sat down in his normal place at the head of the table. He stirred his coffee restlessly. Normally he would laugh or tell some happy event of the day before. This morning nothing seemed happy to Guy. Trying to pinpoint what would bother Guy other than his arthritis would be difficult. He and Lucy had been happily married. They had worked hard, but they had enjoyed the work. They now enjoyed retirement, after having survived hardship and difficult times.

Among the past heartaches had been the loss of two daughters. One had died unexpectedly at the age of six months. She was found dead in her crib. Another daughter had died at the age of 21, shortly after marriage.

Before retirement Guy was in the timber business. He operated a sawmill in the timber area of eastern West Virginia. One day a slab of wood stuck in the saw. Guy pulled the slab in an attempt to free it. Then the slab slipped while another employee helped pull, and it struck Guy in the nose. Rushing to the car, Guy shouted, “I’ll drive myself to the doctor!”

The doctor performed surgery on Guy’s broken nose, sewing it back in place. The nose had nearly been severed from his face. Guy was brave.

Guy sang often. Working and singing were part of his life. While he worked in the sawmill, he hummed. He’d sing joyfully. He liked to lead the singing at church.

“Now let’s turn to ‘Leaning on the Everlasting Arms’ and sing it out,” he’d say. As he directed it, he would move the hymnal back and forth with his arms marking the rhythm.

Today, though, Guy had lost his song. Lucy gathered the breakfast dishes from the table. Poor fellow, she thought. Then she breathed a prayer.

Guy sat in his chair in the family room and looked puzzled. He was deep in thought.

Noontime approached. Still Guy was troubled. He isn’t himself, Lucy thought; his arthritis is really bothering him. She went on with her chores.

Chuckling, Lucy recalled a previous spring when he had helped build an education wing on the church. “Looks like skin on a sausage,” Guy said as he paneled the walls. With his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, he hammered away. He made sure every little corner fit. He loved the chore.

Guy had found it a joy to work for God. He loved God, his country, and his family too. He had been a good dad to his seven children. He had been a good husband, too. Honesty to the very core is what the family thought of Guy.

Jim, his son-in-law, recalled him in his honesty as saying, “Now Jim, be sure to fix the income tax papers right. Don’t omit a thing. I’d rather overpay than underpay. Don’t make any mistakes. I want it right.”

Guy was trustworthy. He attended church regularly and reared his family in church, too. At a young age, Guy had been baptized and had joined the church. He was a trustee, elder, and the church’s song leader. He had a religious background as both grandfathers were ministers.

Guy, a little over six feet tall, had dark brown hair, which was now graying and blue eyes. He was in his late 60’s and was becoming stoop-shouldered, but today he was really stoop-shouldered. Seated in his chair, he was deeply burdened. He pondered what to do.

As the sun began to go down over the horizon at the edge of the village, Guy got up from his chair and went upstairs.

Lucy prepared again to attend the spring revival meeting at the church.

Just then Guy burst down the stairs calling, “Lucy, I’ve got to talk to someone. Call the pastor. There is something wrong with me. I’ve got to have help and prayer.”

Going to the phone, Lucy dialed the pastor. “Guy wants to talk with you. He says that there is something wrong with him. He needs help and prayer.”

“Tell him I’ll meet him at the church,” the pastor said.

On the way to church, Guy recalled the message of the evening before. He had listened to it eagerly, and now the words of the message rang over and over in his mind.

“Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God…. Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again” (John 3:3,7).

Over and over went the thought: “Ye must be born again.”

“You know, Lucy, I’ve never been born again,” Guy said.

Lucy breathed a prayer.

At the church Guy joined the singing and listened to the message. As the invitation was given, Guy walked down the aisle. Tears again flowed down his cheeks. The church wept, too.

“I’ve never been born again, but I want to be born again. I’m a sinner and believe that Jesus Christ died personally for me. I believe He arose the third day. Come into my heart, Lord Jesus,” Guy prayed.

Experiencing then the new birth, Guy really rejoiced. Songs flooded his heart. The whole church rejoiced. On the way home he said, “Lucy, that decision I made earlier in my life was not genuine. I made it because the church officer encouraged me. I’ve been born again now. I know.”

Nature rejoiced, too, that night at spring’s rebirth.

Some time after this event in Guy’s life, he went home to be with the Lord. —by Anna S. Newkirk

Even though he had been active in his church for years, Guy wasn’t a believer, he wasn’t ready to meet God—and one spring day he realized it. Are you ready to meet God? You may be a “good” person, but have you been born from above? Young or old—regardless of your age—you should be able to say every morning, “I am ready to meet God today.” If you can say that, rejoice—and sing—as Guy did when he knew it. If you can’t, then turn to Jesus Christ as your Saviour from sin and trust Him. He can put a true song of rejoicing in your heart—and real peace.

Published in “Confident Living” (Back to the Bible) April 1987. Reprinted by permission.

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