treasured nights

So the internet is down and Oli was helping me figure it out. 

I opened my laptop to check connectivity and the last page that I was on pulled up. It was a Wikipedia page on George Cowper. I had been looking up poems on prayer, as I try to organize my prayer life in a helpful way. 

Oli saw it and said " George Cooper, hmm why does that name sound familiar?"

Me: It's George COWper. 

Oli: Oh, it's pronounced Cooper. 

Of course it is. My resident theology/church history expert of course knew this.  facetopalm.

And he was so gracious about it too.  

So that led him, of course, to pull out one of his absolute favorite books: Bruce Shelley's Church History in plain language. 

And 2 hours later I'm getting a history lesson on Christian Abolitionists (of which COOper was one) Harriet Beecher Stowe's family's connection, and a secret society.  

He is like a kid in a candy store when it comes to this stuff. He loves it so much. As I lay on the bed watching, listening, and asking questions, I couldn't help but smile. 

My sweet church history buff. Eyes full of wonder and excitement as he recalls the information and is making connections to other things he's read. I am a blessed woman.

Thank you Father, for this moment. Give me grace to encourage him, to listen eagerly, to ask and humbly learn. Thank you for giving him this knowledge and helping him retain it. 

May it glorify you. 

Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. 1 Cor 8

*pictured: William Cowper by Lemuel Francis 

And here's the poem:

What various hindrances we meet 
In coming to a mercy seat! 
Yet who that knows the worth of prayer, 
But wishes to be often there? 

Prayer makes the darken'd cloud withdraw, 
Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw, 
Gives exercise to faith and love, 
Brings every blessing from above. 

Restraining prayer, we cease to fight; 
Prayer makes the Christian's armour bright; 
And Satan trembles when he sees 
The weakest saint upon his knees. 

While Moses stood with arms spread wide, 
Success was found on Israel's side; 
But when through weariness they fail'd, 
That moment Amalek prevail'd. 

Have you no words? Ah, think again, 
Words flow apace when you complain, 
And fill your fellow-creature's ear 
With the sad tale of all your care. 

Were half the breath thus vainly spent 
To heaven in supplication sent, 
Your cheerful song would oftener be, 
"Hear what the Lord has done for me."

*pictured: Willam Cooper (google images)