For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish. Psalm 1:6

Prayer Requests:
1. Helen - health
2. Brooke - health
3. Brian – health
4. Pastors as they travel
5. Cassandra Spiker – 4 yr old with cancer
6. Orval Woods – eye surgery –Pat’s dad
7. Family of Harold Carpenter – He passed
8. Baby Kennedy – premature with problems

Women’s Bible Study: Tonight at 6:00.

Music Practice: Next practice will be May 28.

FYI: Pastors are flying out to Colorado on Monday morning and will return on Friday. Please call on a Board Member if you have a need. Bill Treat, Bill Mourer or Don Ross. Sis. Becky Treat will teach the adult class on Wednesday night.

Mark Your Calendar: We will once again have our annual Lake Park Fellowship on Father’s Day. Will try to have more details later.
There will be an all night prayer meeting on June 6. Rom 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. Please sign up if you are planning to join this prayer meeting.

THE BIRTH OF THE SONG 'PRECIOUS LORD' 
Back in 1932, I was 32 years old and a fairly new husband. My wife, Nettie and I were living in a little apartment on Chicago's south side.  One hot August afternoon I had to go to St. Louis, where I was to be the featured soloist at a large revival meeting.  I didn't want to go. 

Nettie was in the last month of pregnancy with our first child.  But a lot of people were expecting me in St. Louis.  
I kissed Nettie good-bye, clattered downstairs to our Model A and, in a fresh Lake Michigan breeze, chugged out of Chicago on Route 66.
However, outside the city, I discovered that in my anxiety at leaving, I had forgotten my music case.  I wheeled around and headed back.  I found  Nettie sleeping peacefully. I hesitated by her bed; something was strongly telling me to stay.  But eager to get on my way, and not wanting to disturb Nettie, I shrugged off the feeling and quietly slipped out of the room with my music. The next night, in the steaming St. Louis heat, the crowd called on me to sing again and again.  When I finally sat down, a messenger boy ran up with a Western Union telegram.  I ripped open the envelope.  Pasted on the yellow sheet were the words:  YOUR WIFE JUST DIED. 

People were happily singing and clapping around me, but I could hardly keep from crying out.  I rushed to a
phone and called home.  All I could hear on the other end was 'Nettie is dead. Nettie is dead.' When I got back, I learned that Nettie had given birth to a boy.  I swung between grief and joy.  Yet that same night, the baby died.  I buried Nettie and our little boy together, in the same casket.  Then I fell apart. 

For days I closeted myself.  I felt that God had done me an injustice.  I didn't want to serve Him anymore or write
Gospel songs.  I just wanted to go back to that jazz world I once knew so well.  But then, as I hunched alone in that dark apartment those first sad days, I thought back to the afternoon I went to St. Louis.  Something kept telling me to stay with Nettie.  Was that something God?  Oh, if I had paid more attention to Him that day, I would have stayed and been with Nettie when she died. 

From that moment on I vowed to listen more closely to Him.  But still I was lost in grief.  Everyone was kind to me, especially a friend, Professor Fry, who seemed to know what I needed.  On the following Saturday evening he took me up to Malone’s Poro College, a neighborhood music school.  It was quiet; the late evening sun crept through the curtained windows.  I sat down at the piano, and my hands began to browse over the keys. Something happened to me then.  I felt at peace.  I felt as though I could reach out and touch God.  I found myself playing a melody, once into my head they just seemed to fall into place: 


'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.' 
 

The Lord gave me these words and melody, He also
healed my spirit.  I learned that when we are in our
deepest grief, when we feel farthest from God, this
is when He is closest, and when we are most open
to His restoring power. 

And so I go on living for God willingly and joyfully, until that day comes when He will take me and gently lead me home. 

           -Tommy Dorsey- 



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A teacher was finishing up a lesson on the joys of discovery and the importance of curiosity.  "Where
would we be today." she asked, "if no one had ever
been curious?"
 
One child quietly spoke up from the back of the room.
"In the Garden of Eden!"
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’