Hold The Ropes

(This poem was read to my class this morning by the sweetest little British lady.  As you read it, please do so, either aloud or in your head, with that accent....)

Hold the Ropes

Down beneath the mighty ocean

Divers plunge for treasures rare

But men hold the ropes above them

So they breathe the upper air.

Seeking pearls of richest value

Braver hearts have dared to go

But our hands must every moment

Hold the ropes that reach below

So amid the heathen darkness

There are heroes, true and brave,

Shrinking not from death or danger,

Hearing all to help and save.

But they cry, “Oh, do not leave us,

“Mid these dreadful depths to drown,

“Let us feel your prayers around us,

“Hold the ropes as we go down!”

This poem is a beautiful accurate picture to me, of how desperately missionaries NEED to have people back at home praying for them, sending them encouraging letters, supporting them financially, etc.  You are our life-line.  We CANNOT do this alone....the Lord has MADE us to function as a body, not each of us 'out for himself.'