Sunday Circle Psalm 146:1-10 Praise you the LORD. Praise the LORD, O my soul.… A touching story is told of an old Methodist, a singer of no mean order, who was afflicted with a cancer on his tongue. He went to a hospital for an operation, and there this pathetic incident occurred. Holding up his hand, he said, "Wait a bit, doctor; I have something to say to you." The operator waited, and the patient continued, "When this is over, doctor, shall I ever sing again?" The doctor could not speak; there was a big lump in his own throat. He simply shook his head, while the tears streamed down the poor fellow's face, and he trembled convulsively. The sick man then appealed to the doctor to lift him up, with which request the physician complied. He said, "I have had many a good time singing God's praises, and you tell me, doctor, I can never sing any more after this. I have one song to sing, which will be the last. It will be a song of gratitude and praise to God as well." Then, from the operator's table, the poor man sang one of Dr. Watts hymns, so familiar to many: — "I'll praise my Maker while I've breath." (Sunday Circle.) Parallel Verses KJV: Praise ye the LORD. Praise the LORD, O my soul. |
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