Page 51 - Malayan Story
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MALAYAN STORY
the light of the Gospel shine into the hearts of the followers of Islam and Buddha also. The
following was distributed to prayer groups and prayer partners to inform them of the difficulties:
EMBATTLED
by Percy Moore
We went into attack confidently,
Prepared to scale the heights
And place a Cross for all to see triumphantly.
And as we neared the foe uncarefully,
Our forces well deployed
In battle line ahead we moved unwarily.
Why should we not emerge victoriously,
‘Twas dynamite to break hard hearts almightily!
Instead our ranks thin out most fearfully,
Death takes a few but more
Mowed down by sickness, battered sore, return to base.
The heights remain unsealed challengingly,
Except a small gain here,
A crag, a bulge we scarce can hold temporarily.
And still above the heights, how clearly
Shines the Crescent and the Star
Whilst Buddha, placid and unmoved sits smilingly.
They do not fight as we - Death or Victory!
But smile and bow, agree,
Compare, learn English and be friends politely.
And so the heights remain the enemy’s
And we fight up - tools blunt -
Hearts sore, bewildered and oppressed, questioningly.
O God, all this is Thine divinely!
Can Islam fight us off,
Ignore us, argue, push us back so easily?
Can Buddha take our sword so courteously,
And blunt its edge, soften
Remould and say ‘It is the same’ convincingly?
Recall the power of God! Incomparable!
Keep the hands upraised, steady, till
The battle which is His shall end victoriously.
Return to Table of Contents
51
the light of the Gospel shine into the hearts of the followers of Islam and Buddha also. The
following was distributed to prayer groups and prayer partners to inform them of the difficulties:
EMBATTLED
by Percy Moore
We went into attack confidently,
Prepared to scale the heights
And place a Cross for all to see triumphantly.
And as we neared the foe uncarefully,
Our forces well deployed
In battle line ahead we moved unwarily.
Why should we not emerge victoriously,
‘Twas dynamite to break hard hearts almightily!
Instead our ranks thin out most fearfully,
Death takes a few but more
Mowed down by sickness, battered sore, return to base.
The heights remain unsealed challengingly,
Except a small gain here,
A crag, a bulge we scarce can hold temporarily.
And still above the heights, how clearly
Shines the Crescent and the Star
Whilst Buddha, placid and unmoved sits smilingly.
They do not fight as we - Death or Victory!
But smile and bow, agree,
Compare, learn English and be friends politely.
And so the heights remain the enemy’s
And we fight up - tools blunt -
Hearts sore, bewildered and oppressed, questioningly.
O God, all this is Thine divinely!
Can Islam fight us off,
Ignore us, argue, push us back so easily?
Can Buddha take our sword so courteously,
And blunt its edge, soften
Remould and say ‘It is the same’ convincingly?
Recall the power of God! Incomparable!
Keep the hands upraised, steady, till
The battle which is His shall end victoriously.
Return to Table of Contents
51
