Others came in and took their seats, a motley company of depressed old age wearing the marks of poverty and sorrow. The leader entered and this time he gave out the hymn. “I don’t care. I like this just as well,” observed the one who had chosen “We’re Marching to Zion.” Well might she and the others, for it expressed faith and hope in the lines:
“Be not dismayed whate’er betide,
God will take care of you;
Beneath his wings of love abide,
God will take care of you.”[18]
Thus encouraged they went from that service to the humdrum routine of daily drudgery.
The power of the Gospel to reach those on the outskirts of civilization is evidenced
When Lumberjacks Sang “Jesus, Lover of My Soul”
Thomas D. Whittles tells of many an interesting incident in his book, The Parish of the Pines[19]—the story of Frank Higgins, the Lumberjacks’ Sky Pilot.
One morning after breakfast the men went to the bunkhouse to wait for the word of the “push” ordering them to “the works.” While they waited a rich tenor struck up the hymn,