By Eric - 11:12 PM

Just to pass out the dull rainy morning...I thought of something that would keep me busy aside from listening to both secular and religious music in my MP3 phone.My eyes were roaming around the four corners of my room searching for the possible errand to do,so I decided to read book to enhance my reading and vocabulary instead.
As I was chosing the best book to read,a simple booklet had caught my curiosity as if by trapping or snaring.The book entitled:"Praying with Power-Moving Mountains" written by Dr.Kenneth Mulzac,a very dynamic speaker and professor which I met personally a hundred times..
Nonetheless,I read the first part of the book till I got into the main course of the story which a lamp hardened in my throat while the author telling the intro part of a story of Thomas Dorsey known to be the father of Gospel Music and known for his composition "Precious Lord Take My Hand".
Here is the short story of Thomas Dorsey that cried me a river just this morning: Thomas Dorsey once suffered a life-changing tragedy.He had left his wife in Chicago,expecting their first baby,while he played in a revival in St.Louis.In the middle of the concert a messenger brought him a telegram.Dorsey's wife had delivered a baby boy.But she had died.He was torn, a tumult of emotions rising like a tidal wave in his breast.On the one hand,he wrenched in agony and pain at the death of his beloved wife Nettie;on the other hand,he choked with tears of joy for his boy.Shocked and crazed with pain,Dorsey made his way back to Chicago where he learned that the baby had also died.Dorsey buried both of his wife and baby in the same casket.he slumped into depression.Then one day,a friend,a music lover,locked him in a classroom,empty except for a piano.Dorsey slowly fingered the keys,improvising.A song was born:

Precious Lord, take my hand,
Lead me on, let me stand,
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn;
Through the storm, through the night,
Lead me on to the light:


Take my hand, precious Lord,
Lead me home.

When my way grows drear,
Precious Lord, linger near,
When my life is almost gone,
Hear my cry, hear my call,
Hold my hand lest I fall:


When the darkness appears
And the night draws near,
And the day is past and gone,
At the river I stand,
Guide my feet, hold my hand:

Dorsey's tragic story moved me to cry like a baby..profoundly pondering how pathetic I was in the midst of adversity while I was calling the precious name of Jesus.It may sounds so corny or funny for others but I felt something inside that warmth the chilling of my heart.

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