We are pilgrims looking home,
Sad and weary, oft we roam,
But we know ‘twill all be well in the morning;
When, our anchor safely cast,
Ev’ry stormy wave is past,
And we gather safe at last in the morning.
O these tender broken ties,
How they dim our aching eyes,
But like jewels they will shine in the morning;
When our victor palms we bear,
And our robes immortal wear,
We shall know each other there in the morning.
When our fettered souls are free,
Far beyond the narrow sea,
And we hear the Savior’s voice in the morning;
When our golden sheaves we bring
To the feet of Christ our King,
What a chorus we shall sing in the morning.
Thro’ our pilgrim journey here,
Tho’ the night is sometimes drear,
Let us watch and persevere till the morning;
Then our highest tribute raise
For the love that crowns our days,
And to Jesus give the praise in the morning.
Chorus:
When we all meet again in the morning,
On the sweet, blooming hills in the morning;
Never more to say good night
In that sunny region bright,
When we hail the blessed light of the morning.
Lizzie Edwards
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Mother's Mirror and Fresh Peonies with God will fill our hearts for service and All praise to Him who reigns above
God will fill our hearts for service,
In the same old way;
He will answer prayer and bless us
In the same old way.
Does your heart burn for another
In the same old way?
Will you seek to win some other
In the same old way?
God will help the weak and weary
In the same old way;
He will cheer the life that’s dreary
In the same old way.
Will you tell the wondrous story
In the same old way?
That your Lord may have the glory
In the same old way?
Chorus
In the same old way,
In the same old way;
God will bless and save His people
In the same old way.
All praise to Him who reigns above,
In majesty supreme;
Who gave his Son for man to die,
That he might man redeem.
His name above all names shall stand,
Exalted more and more,
At God the Father’s own right hand,
Where angel hosts adore.
Redeemer, Savior, Friend of man,
Once ruined by the fall,
Thou hast devised salvation’s plan,
For thou hast died for all.
His name shall be the Counsellor,
The mighty Prince of Peace,
Of all earth’s kingdoms conqueror,
Whose reign shall never cease.
The ransomed hosts to thee shall bring
Their praise and homage meet;
With rapturous awe adore their King,
And worship at his feet.
Then shall we know as we are known,
And in that world above
Forever sing around the throne
His everlasting love.
Chorus:
Blessed be the name, blessed be the name,
Blessed be the name of the Lord;
Blessed be the name, blessed be the name,
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
W. H. Clark
In the same old way;
He will answer prayer and bless us
In the same old way.
Does your heart burn for another
In the same old way?
Will you seek to win some other
In the same old way?
God will help the weak and weary
In the same old way;
He will cheer the life that’s dreary
In the same old way.
Will you tell the wondrous story
In the same old way?
That your Lord may have the glory
In the same old way?
Chorus
In the same old way,
In the same old way;
God will bless and save His people
In the same old way.
All praise to Him who reigns above,
In majesty supreme;
Who gave his Son for man to die,
That he might man redeem.
His name above all names shall stand,
Exalted more and more,
At God the Father’s own right hand,
Where angel hosts adore.
Redeemer, Savior, Friend of man,
Once ruined by the fall,
Thou hast devised salvation’s plan,
For thou hast died for all.
His name shall be the Counsellor,
The mighty Prince of Peace,
Of all earth’s kingdoms conqueror,
Whose reign shall never cease.
The ransomed hosts to thee shall bring
Their praise and homage meet;
With rapturous awe adore their King,
And worship at his feet.
Then shall we know as we are known,
And in that world above
Forever sing around the throne
His everlasting love.
Chorus:
Blessed be the name, blessed be the name,
Blessed be the name of the Lord;
Blessed be the name, blessed be the name,
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
W. H. Clark
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Sleeping Cat with Hark to the music resounding and I am waiting for the Master
Hark to the music resounding,
Reapers are needed today;
Fields are all white, to the harvest
Let us be up and away!
Ever the Master is calling,
Hasten! the shadows are falling;
On to the harvest field,
Gather the golden yield,
Precious sheaves.
Forward with hearts full of gladness,
Reapers, I pray you, make haste;
Grain there is ready and waiting,
If not soon gathered, will waste;
Then let us hear you replying,
Labor with courage undying,
Send up a word of cheer,
Tell of the rest so near,
Rest at home.
Hark to the song they are singing!
See, they have treasures so rare;
Soon will the harvest be ended,
Haste, then, their trophies to share.
Let no one be idly dreaming,
Look! look! the harvest is gleaming,
Join ye the reaping band,
Lend them a helping hand,
Ere the night.
Chorus
Hark! hark! comes the song,
On! on! join the throng;
Forth with joyful, loving heart,
Bravely do your part;
Hark! hark! rings the call;
Haste! haste! one and all;
On where the harvest stands,
Waiting for willing hands
Souls to win.
Lizzie DeArmond
I am waiting for the Master,
Who will bid me rise and come
To the glory of his presence,
To the gladness of his home.
Many a weary path I’ve traveled,
In the darkest storm and strife,
Bearing many a heavy burden, -
Often struggling for my life.
Many friends that traveled with me
Reached that portal long ago;
One by one they left me battling
With the dark and crafty foe.
Yes, their pilgrimage was shorter,
And their triumphs sooner won;
Oh, how lovingly they’ll greet me
When the toils of life are done.
Yet, O Lord, I wait thy pleasure,
For thy time and ways are best;
Hear me, Lord, for I am weary;
O my Father, bid me rest.
CHORUS:
They are watching at the portal,
They are waiting at the door;
Waiting only for my coming
All the loved ones gone before.
Mrs. Kate M. Reasoner
Reapers are needed today;
Fields are all white, to the harvest
Let us be up and away!
Ever the Master is calling,
Hasten! the shadows are falling;
On to the harvest field,
Gather the golden yield,
Precious sheaves.
Forward with hearts full of gladness,
Reapers, I pray you, make haste;
Grain there is ready and waiting,
If not soon gathered, will waste;
Then let us hear you replying,
Labor with courage undying,
Send up a word of cheer,
Tell of the rest so near,
Rest at home.
Hark to the song they are singing!
See, they have treasures so rare;
Soon will the harvest be ended,
Haste, then, their trophies to share.
Let no one be idly dreaming,
Look! look! the harvest is gleaming,
Join ye the reaping band,
Lend them a helping hand,
Ere the night.
Chorus
Hark! hark! comes the song,
On! on! join the throng;
Forth with joyful, loving heart,
Bravely do your part;
Hark! hark! rings the call;
Haste! haste! one and all;
On where the harvest stands,
Waiting for willing hands
Souls to win.
Lizzie DeArmond
I am waiting for the Master,
Who will bid me rise and come
To the glory of his presence,
To the gladness of his home.
Many a weary path I’ve traveled,
In the darkest storm and strife,
Bearing many a heavy burden, -
Often struggling for my life.
Many friends that traveled with me
Reached that portal long ago;
One by one they left me battling
With the dark and crafty foe.
Yes, their pilgrimage was shorter,
And their triumphs sooner won;
Oh, how lovingly they’ll greet me
When the toils of life are done.
Yet, O Lord, I wait thy pleasure,
For thy time and ways are best;
Hear me, Lord, for I am weary;
O my Father, bid me rest.
CHORUS:
They are watching at the portal,
They are waiting at the door;
Waiting only for my coming
All the loved ones gone before.
Mrs. Kate M. Reasoner
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Peonies on Chair and In Basket with When the early morning breaking and Dear Saviour, we are Thine
When the early morning breaking,
Slumber from my eyelids shaking,
Comes the blessed tho’t with waking,
I am in His keeping.
Day advances, labor bringing,
Care, her mantle ‘round me flinging,
Yet midst all my soul keeps singing,
I am in His care.
Sometimes dark clouds hang o’er me,
Not one step I see before me,
Still, my Savior, I adore Thee,
I am in His keeping.
I can trust His hand to guide me,
‘Neath His wings He’ll safely hide me,
And no harm can e’er betide me,
I am in His care.
Gentle eventide is nearing,
Light from Heaven disappearing,
Still the blessed tho’t so cheering,
I am in His keeping.
Now night’s curtains gather ‘round me,
Yet its dangers have not found me,
For His angel guards surround me,
I am in His care.
Chorus
I am in my Father’s keeping,
I am in His tender care;
Whether waking, whether sleeping,
I am in His care.
C. H. Morris
Dear Saviour, we are Thine,
By everlasting bands;
Our names, our hearts, we would resign,
And souls, into Thy hands.
To Thee we still would cleave,
With ever growing zeal;
If millions tempt us Christ to leave,
O let them ne’er prevail.
Thy Spirit shall unite
Our souls to Thee our Head;
Shall form us to Thy image bright,
That we Thy paths may tread.
Death may our souls divide
From these abodes of clay;
But love shall keep us near Thy side,
Through all the gloomy way.
Since Christ and we are one,
Why should we doubt or fear?
Since He in heaven has fixed His throne,
He’ll fix His members there.
Rev. Philip Doddridge
Slumber from my eyelids shaking,
Comes the blessed tho’t with waking,
I am in His keeping.
Day advances, labor bringing,
Care, her mantle ‘round me flinging,
Yet midst all my soul keeps singing,
I am in His care.
Sometimes dark clouds hang o’er me,
Not one step I see before me,
Still, my Savior, I adore Thee,
I am in His keeping.
I can trust His hand to guide me,
‘Neath His wings He’ll safely hide me,
And no harm can e’er betide me,
I am in His care.
Gentle eventide is nearing,
Light from Heaven disappearing,
Still the blessed tho’t so cheering,
I am in His keeping.
Now night’s curtains gather ‘round me,
Yet its dangers have not found me,
For His angel guards surround me,
I am in His care.
Chorus
I am in my Father’s keeping,
I am in His tender care;
Whether waking, whether sleeping,
I am in His care.
C. H. Morris
Dear Saviour, we are Thine,
By everlasting bands;
Our names, our hearts, we would resign,
And souls, into Thy hands.
To Thee we still would cleave,
With ever growing zeal;
If millions tempt us Christ to leave,
O let them ne’er prevail.
Thy Spirit shall unite
Our souls to Thee our Head;
Shall form us to Thy image bright,
That we Thy paths may tread.
Death may our souls divide
From these abodes of clay;
But love shall keep us near Thy side,
Through all the gloomy way.
Since Christ and we are one,
Why should we doubt or fear?
Since He in heaven has fixed His throne,
He’ll fix His members there.
Rev. Philip Doddridge
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
White Summer Flowers and Teapot with I do not ask to see the way and Let me but hear my Saviour say
I do not ask to see the way
My feet will have to tread,
But only that my soul may feed
Upon the living bread:
‘Tis better far that I should walk
By faith close to His side;
I may not know the way I go,
But oh, I know my Guide.
And if my feet would go astray,
They cannot, for I know
That Jesus guides my falt’ring steps,
As joyfully I go:
And though I may not see His face,
My faith is strong and clear
That in each hour of sore distress
My Savior will be near.
I will not fear, tho’ darkness come
Abroad o’er all the land,
If I may only feel the touch
Of His own loving hand:
And though I tremble when I think
How weak I am, how frail,
My soul is satisfied to know
His love can never fail.
Chorus
His love can never fail,
His love can never fail;
My soul is satisfied to know
His love can never fail.
E. S. Hall
Let me but hear my Saviour say,
“Strength shall be equal to thy day!”
Then I rejoice in deep distress,
Leaning on all-sufficient grace.
I glory in infirmity,
That Christ’s own power may rest on me;
When I am weak, then am I strong;
Grace is my shield, and Christ my song.
I can do all things-or can bear
All sufferings, if my Lord be there;
Sweet pleasures mingle with the pains,
While His own hand my head sustains.
Rev. Isaac Watts
My feet will have to tread,
But only that my soul may feed
Upon the living bread:
‘Tis better far that I should walk
By faith close to His side;
I may not know the way I go,
But oh, I know my Guide.
And if my feet would go astray,
They cannot, for I know
That Jesus guides my falt’ring steps,
As joyfully I go:
And though I may not see His face,
My faith is strong and clear
That in each hour of sore distress
My Savior will be near.
I will not fear, tho’ darkness come
Abroad o’er all the land,
If I may only feel the touch
Of His own loving hand:
And though I tremble when I think
How weak I am, how frail,
My soul is satisfied to know
His love can never fail.
Chorus
His love can never fail,
His love can never fail;
My soul is satisfied to know
His love can never fail.
E. S. Hall
Let me but hear my Saviour say,
“Strength shall be equal to thy day!”
Then I rejoice in deep distress,
Leaning on all-sufficient grace.
I glory in infirmity,
That Christ’s own power may rest on me;
When I am weak, then am I strong;
Grace is my shield, and Christ my song.
I can do all things-or can bear
All sufferings, if my Lord be there;
Sweet pleasures mingle with the pains,
While His own hand my head sustains.
Rev. Isaac Watts
Monday, November 7, 2011
Bibles and Yellow Roses with In tenderness He sought me and Upward where the stars are burning
In tenderness He sought me,
Weary and sick with sin,
And on His shoulders bro’t me,
Back to His fold again,
While angels in His presence sang
Until the courts of Heaven rang.
He washed the bleeding sin-wounds,
And poured in oil and wine;
He whispered to assure me,
“I’ve found thee, thou art Mine;”
I never heard a sweeter voice,
It made my aching heart rejoice!
He pointed to the nail prints,
For me His blood was shed,
A mocking crown so thorny,
Was placed upon His head:
I wondered what He saw in me,
To suffer such deep agony.
I’m sitting in His presence,
The sunshine of His face,
While with adoring wonder
His blessings I retrace.
It seems as if eternal days
Are far too short to sound His praise.
So while the hours are passing,
All now is perfect rest;
I’m waiting for the morning,
The brightest and the best,
When He will call us to His side,
To be with Him, His spotless bride.
Chorus
Oh, the love that sought me!
Oh, the blood that bought me!
Oh, the grace that bro’t me to the fold,
Wondrous grace that bro’t me to the fold!
W. Spencer Walton
Upward where the stars are burning,
Silent, silent in their turning,
Round the never-changing pole;
Upward where the sky is brightest,
Upward where the blue is lightest,
Lift I now my longing soul.
Far above that arch of gladness,
Far beyond these clouds of sadness,
Are the many mansions fair.
Far from pain and sin and folly,
In that palace of the holy
I would find my mansion there.
Where the Lamb on high is seated,
By ten thousand voices greeted:
Lord of lords, and King of kings.
Son of man, they crown, they crown him;
Son of God, they own, they own him;
With his name the palace rings.
Blessing, honor, without measure,
Heavenly riches, earthly treasure,
Lay we at his blessed feet.
Poor the praise that now we render,
Loud shall be our voices yonder,
When before his throne we meet.
Horatius Bonar
Weary and sick with sin,
And on His shoulders bro’t me,
Back to His fold again,
While angels in His presence sang
Until the courts of Heaven rang.
He washed the bleeding sin-wounds,
And poured in oil and wine;
He whispered to assure me,
“I’ve found thee, thou art Mine;”
I never heard a sweeter voice,
It made my aching heart rejoice!
He pointed to the nail prints,
For me His blood was shed,
A mocking crown so thorny,
Was placed upon His head:
I wondered what He saw in me,
To suffer such deep agony.
I’m sitting in His presence,
The sunshine of His face,
While with adoring wonder
His blessings I retrace.
It seems as if eternal days
Are far too short to sound His praise.
So while the hours are passing,
All now is perfect rest;
I’m waiting for the morning,
The brightest and the best,
When He will call us to His side,
To be with Him, His spotless bride.
Chorus
Oh, the love that sought me!
Oh, the blood that bought me!
Oh, the grace that bro’t me to the fold,
Wondrous grace that bro’t me to the fold!
W. Spencer Walton
Upward where the stars are burning,
Silent, silent in their turning,
Round the never-changing pole;
Upward where the sky is brightest,
Upward where the blue is lightest,
Lift I now my longing soul.
Far above that arch of gladness,
Far beyond these clouds of sadness,
Are the many mansions fair.
Far from pain and sin and folly,
In that palace of the holy
I would find my mansion there.
Where the Lamb on high is seated,
By ten thousand voices greeted:
Lord of lords, and King of kings.
Son of man, they crown, they crown him;
Son of God, they own, they own him;
With his name the palace rings.
Blessing, honor, without measure,
Heavenly riches, earthly treasure,
Lay we at his blessed feet.
Poor the praise that now we render,
Loud shall be our voices yonder,
When before his throne we meet.
Horatius Bonar
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Daffodils with Soon will our Savior from Heaven appear and Lord, it belongs not to my care
Soon will our Savior from Heaven appear;
Sweet is the hope and its power to cheer;
All will be changed by a glimpse of His face-
This is the goal at the end of our race!
Loneliness changed to reunion complete,
Absence exchanged for a place at His feet,
Sleeping ones raised in a moment of time,
Living ones changed to His image sublime!
Sunrise will chase all the darkness away,
Night will be changed to the brightness of day,
Tempest will change to ineffable calm,
Weeping will change to a jubilant psalm!
Weakness will change to magnificent strength,
Failure will change to perfection at length,
Sorrow will change to unending delight,
Walking by faith change to walking by sight!
Chorus
Oh, what a change, Oh, what a change,
When I shall see His wonderful face!
Oh, what a change, Oh, what a change,
When I shall see His face!
Ada R. Habershon
Lord, it belongs not to my care
Whether I die or live;
To love and serve thee is my share,
And this thy grace must give.
If life be long, I will be glad
That I may long obey;
If short, yet why should I be sad
To soar to endless day?
Christ leads me through no darker rooms
Than he went through before;
No one into his kingdom comes
But through his opened door.
Come, Lord, when grace has made me meet
Thy blessed face to see;
For if thy work on earth be sweet,
What will thy glory be?
My knowledge of that life is small,
The eye of faith is dim;
But ‘tis enough that Christ knows all,
And I shall be with him.
Richard Baxter
Sweet is the hope and its power to cheer;
All will be changed by a glimpse of His face-
This is the goal at the end of our race!
Loneliness changed to reunion complete,
Absence exchanged for a place at His feet,
Sleeping ones raised in a moment of time,
Living ones changed to His image sublime!
Sunrise will chase all the darkness away,
Night will be changed to the brightness of day,
Tempest will change to ineffable calm,
Weeping will change to a jubilant psalm!
Weakness will change to magnificent strength,
Failure will change to perfection at length,
Sorrow will change to unending delight,
Walking by faith change to walking by sight!
Chorus
Oh, what a change, Oh, what a change,
When I shall see His wonderful face!
Oh, what a change, Oh, what a change,
When I shall see His face!
Ada R. Habershon
Lord, it belongs not to my care
Whether I die or live;
To love and serve thee is my share,
And this thy grace must give.
If life be long, I will be glad
That I may long obey;
If short, yet why should I be sad
To soar to endless day?
Christ leads me through no darker rooms
Than he went through before;
No one into his kingdom comes
But through his opened door.
Come, Lord, when grace has made me meet
Thy blessed face to see;
For if thy work on earth be sweet,
What will thy glory be?
My knowledge of that life is small,
The eye of faith is dim;
But ‘tis enough that Christ knows all,
And I shall be with him.
Richard Baxter
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Cosmos in Carnival Glass with There’s no friend to me like Jesus and Grace! ‘tis a charming sound
There’s no friend to me like Jesus,
He my ev’ry need supplies;
He not only saves but keeps me,
Nothing good from me denies.
All, yes, all to me is Jesus,
Blest Redeemer, Savior, Guide,
And from ev’ry foe defends me,
And in Him I’ll ever hide.
I will never cease to love Him,
He who died to set me free;
Now in Him I am abiding,
And some day His face I’ll see.
Chorus
Yes, in Him I’m fully trusting,
Yes, thro’ Him I’ll conquer all;
For I know He saves and keeps me,
And He’ll never let me fall.
M. J. Babbitt
Grace! ‘tis a charming sound,
Harmonious to the ear;
Heaven with the echo shall resound,
And all the earth shall hear.
Grace first contrived the way
To save rebellious man;
And all the steps that grace display
Which drew the wondrous plan.
Grace led my roving feet
To tread the heavenly road;
And new supplies each hour I meet,
While pressing on to God.
Grace all the work shall crown,
Through everlasting days;
It lays in heaven the topmost stone,
And well deserves the praise.
Philip Doddridge
He my ev’ry need supplies;
He not only saves but keeps me,
Nothing good from me denies.
All, yes, all to me is Jesus,
Blest Redeemer, Savior, Guide,
And from ev’ry foe defends me,
And in Him I’ll ever hide.
I will never cease to love Him,
He who died to set me free;
Now in Him I am abiding,
And some day His face I’ll see.
Chorus
Yes, in Him I’m fully trusting,
Yes, thro’ Him I’ll conquer all;
For I know He saves and keeps me,
And He’ll never let me fall.
M. J. Babbitt
Grace! ‘tis a charming sound,
Harmonious to the ear;
Heaven with the echo shall resound,
And all the earth shall hear.
Grace first contrived the way
To save rebellious man;
And all the steps that grace display
Which drew the wondrous plan.
Grace led my roving feet
To tread the heavenly road;
And new supplies each hour I meet,
While pressing on to God.
Grace all the work shall crown,
Through everlasting days;
It lays in heaven the topmost stone,
And well deserves the praise.
Philip Doddridge
Friday, November 4, 2011
Wild Zinnias with I want my life to glorify my Lord and King and There is singing up in heaven such as we have never known
I want my life to glorify my Lord and King;
I want to please and honor Him in ev’rything;
I want my life to tell men that He is my Guide;
I want the world to know He’s walking by my side.
Oh, that my life might magnify the Savior’s pow’r;
Oh, that my deeds might witness to His grace each hour;
Oh, that my words might magnify His holy name,
So let my heart and voice His mighty pow’r proclaim.
I want my life to testify that He can save;
I want to help to make His crimson banner wave;
I want to tell the blessed story ev’ry day;
I want to be a light to others on their way.
Chorus
I want to live as Jesus lives, I want to love as Jesus loved,
I want to serve and honor Him and please Him in ev’rything;
I want to live as Jesus lived, I want to love as Jesus loved,
I want my life to testify that He’s my Lord and King.
J. P. Scholfield
There is singing up in heaven such as we have never known,
Where the angels sing the praises of the Lamb upon the throne;
Their sweet harps are ever tuneful and their voices always clear,
Oh, that we might be more like them while we serve the Master here.
But I hear another anthem, blending voices clear and strong,
“Unto Him who hath redeemed us and hath bought us,” is the song;
We have come thro’ tribulations to this land so fair and bright,
In the fountain freely flowing He hath made our garments white.
Then the angels stand and listen, for they cannot join that song,
Like the sound of many waters, by that happy blood-washed throng;
For they sing about great trials, battles fought and vict’ries won,
And they praise their great Redeemer who hath said to them, “well done.”
So, although I’m no an angel, yet I know that over there
I will join a blessed chorus that the angels cannot share;
I will sing about my Savior who upon dark Calvary
Freely pardoned my transgressions, died to set a sinner free.
Chorus
Holy, holy, is what the angels sing,
And I expect to help them make the courts of heaven ring;
But when I sing redemption’s story they will fold their wings,
For angels never felt the joys that our salvation brings.
Rev. Johnson Oatman, Jr.
I want to please and honor Him in ev’rything;
I want my life to tell men that He is my Guide;
I want the world to know He’s walking by my side.
Oh, that my life might magnify the Savior’s pow’r;
Oh, that my deeds might witness to His grace each hour;
Oh, that my words might magnify His holy name,
So let my heart and voice His mighty pow’r proclaim.
I want my life to testify that He can save;
I want to help to make His crimson banner wave;
I want to tell the blessed story ev’ry day;
I want to be a light to others on their way.
Chorus
I want to live as Jesus lives, I want to love as Jesus loved,
I want to serve and honor Him and please Him in ev’rything;
I want to live as Jesus lived, I want to love as Jesus loved,
I want my life to testify that He’s my Lord and King.
J. P. Scholfield
There is singing up in heaven such as we have never known,
Where the angels sing the praises of the Lamb upon the throne;
Their sweet harps are ever tuneful and their voices always clear,
Oh, that we might be more like them while we serve the Master here.
But I hear another anthem, blending voices clear and strong,
“Unto Him who hath redeemed us and hath bought us,” is the song;
We have come thro’ tribulations to this land so fair and bright,
In the fountain freely flowing He hath made our garments white.
Then the angels stand and listen, for they cannot join that song,
Like the sound of many waters, by that happy blood-washed throng;
For they sing about great trials, battles fought and vict’ries won,
And they praise their great Redeemer who hath said to them, “well done.”
So, although I’m no an angel, yet I know that over there
I will join a blessed chorus that the angels cannot share;
I will sing about my Savior who upon dark Calvary
Freely pardoned my transgressions, died to set a sinner free.
Chorus
Holy, holy, is what the angels sing,
And I expect to help them make the courts of heaven ring;
But when I sing redemption’s story they will fold their wings,
For angels never felt the joys that our salvation brings.
Rev. Johnson Oatman, Jr.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Anniversary Flowers with I know my heav’nly Father knows and God moves in a mysterious way
I know my heav’nly Father knows
The storms that would my way oppose;
But He can drive the clouds away,
And turn my darkness into day,
And turn my darkness into day.
I know my heav’nly Father knows
The balm I need to soothe my woes;
And with His touch of love divine,
He heals this wounded soul of mine,
He heals this wounded soul of mine.
I know my heav’nly Father knows
How frail I am to meet my foes,
But He my cause will e’er defend,
Uphold and keep me to the end,
Uphold and keep me to the end.
I know my heav’nly Father knows
The hour my journey here will close,
And may that hour, O faithful Guide,
Find me safe sheltered by Thy side,
Find me safe sheltered by Thy side.
Chorus
He knows, He knows
The storms that would my way oppose;
He knows, He knows,
And tempers ev’ry wind that blows.
S. M. I. Henry
God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
With blessing on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.
William Cowper
The storms that would my way oppose;
But He can drive the clouds away,
And turn my darkness into day,
And turn my darkness into day.
I know my heav’nly Father knows
The balm I need to soothe my woes;
And with His touch of love divine,
He heals this wounded soul of mine,
He heals this wounded soul of mine.
I know my heav’nly Father knows
How frail I am to meet my foes,
But He my cause will e’er defend,
Uphold and keep me to the end,
Uphold and keep me to the end.
I know my heav’nly Father knows
The hour my journey here will close,
And may that hour, O faithful Guide,
Find me safe sheltered by Thy side,
Find me safe sheltered by Thy side.
Chorus
He knows, He knows
The storms that would my way oppose;
He knows, He knows,
And tempers ev’ry wind that blows.
S. M. I. Henry
God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
With blessing on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.
William Cowper
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Some Dried Flowers and Mosaic Like Vase with Do you fear the foe will in the conflict win? and
Do you fear the foe will in the conflict win?
Is it dark without you-darker still within?
Clear the darkened windows, open wide the door,
Let a little sunshine in.
Does your faith grow fainter in the cause you love?
Are your prayers unanswered by your God above?
Clear the darkened windows, open wide the door,
Let a little sunshine in.
Would you go rejoicing in the upward way,
Knowing naught of darkness, dwelling in the day?
Clear the darkened windows, open wide the door,
Let a little sunshine in.
Chorus
Let a little sunshine in,
Let a little sunshine in;
Clear the darkened windows, open wide the door,
Let a little sunshine in.
Ada Blenkhorn
The Bible is the book I need,
So precious, so precious;
It helps me eve’ry time I read
Its message for the day;
The words of everlasting love,
There whispered by the Holy Dove,
Bring consolation from above,
So precious, so precious.
Joy glitters on its open page,
So precious, so precious;
The guide of youth, the staff of age,
The lamp that lights our way;
It tells me of redeeming might
That puts the pow’rs of sin to flight,
Of cleansing blood and garments white,
So precious, so precious.
The Bible is the book for me,
So precious, so precious;
Until my Savior’s face I see
And in his presence stay;
Till then, my Father’s blessed will,
And strength his bidding to fulfill,
I’ll gather from my Bible still,
So precious, so precious.
E. E. Hewitt
Is it dark without you-darker still within?
Clear the darkened windows, open wide the door,
Let a little sunshine in.
Does your faith grow fainter in the cause you love?
Are your prayers unanswered by your God above?
Clear the darkened windows, open wide the door,
Let a little sunshine in.
Would you go rejoicing in the upward way,
Knowing naught of darkness, dwelling in the day?
Clear the darkened windows, open wide the door,
Let a little sunshine in.
Chorus
Let a little sunshine in,
Let a little sunshine in;
Clear the darkened windows, open wide the door,
Let a little sunshine in.
Ada Blenkhorn
The Bible is the book I need,
So precious, so precious;
It helps me eve’ry time I read
Its message for the day;
The words of everlasting love,
There whispered by the Holy Dove,
Bring consolation from above,
So precious, so precious.
Joy glitters on its open page,
So precious, so precious;
The guide of youth, the staff of age,
The lamp that lights our way;
It tells me of redeeming might
That puts the pow’rs of sin to flight,
Of cleansing blood and garments white,
So precious, so precious.
The Bible is the book for me,
So precious, so precious;
Until my Savior’s face I see
And in his presence stay;
Till then, my Father’s blessed will,
And strength his bidding to fulfill,
I’ll gather from my Bible still,
So precious, so precious.
E. E. Hewitt
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Daylilies and Pottery with Tho’ He may call me to go the valley thro’ and Lo! the storms of life are breaking,
Tho’ He may call me to go the valley thro’,
Jesus is my Leader and to Him I”ll be true;
Where’er He leadeth I’ll follow and obey;
If Jesus is leading, I’ll follow all the way.
Over the ocean if He should bid me go,
I’ll follow His leading and seek His will to know;
Trusting my pilot, I’ll go without delay,
If Jesus is leading, I’ll follow all the way.
I shall not question the leading of my King,
I’ll go where He leads me, with joy I’ll serve and sing;
Trusting His wisdom, I’ll follow day by day,
If Jesus is leading, I’ll follow all the way.
Chorus
When Jesus leads I’ll follow all the way,
When Jesus speaks I’ll do as He shall say;
When Jesus calls.....I’ll go without delay,
Wherever He leads I’ll follow all the way.
J. P. Scholfield
Lo! the storms of life are breaking,
Faithless fears our hearts are shaking;
For our succour undertaking,
Lord and Saviour, help us.
Lo! the world from thee rebelling,
Round thy church, in pride is swelling;
With thy word their madness quelling,
Lord and Saviour, help us.
On thine own command relying,
We our onward task are plying,
Unto thee for safety sighing,
Lord and Saviour, help us.
By thy birth, thy cross, thy passion,
By thy tears of deep compassion,
By thy mighty intercession,
Lord and Saviour, help us.
Henry Alford
Jesus is my Leader and to Him I”ll be true;
Where’er He leadeth I’ll follow and obey;
If Jesus is leading, I’ll follow all the way.
Over the ocean if He should bid me go,
I’ll follow His leading and seek His will to know;
Trusting my pilot, I’ll go without delay,
If Jesus is leading, I’ll follow all the way.
I shall not question the leading of my King,
I’ll go where He leads me, with joy I’ll serve and sing;
Trusting His wisdom, I’ll follow day by day,
If Jesus is leading, I’ll follow all the way.
Chorus
When Jesus leads I’ll follow all the way,
When Jesus speaks I’ll do as He shall say;
When Jesus calls.....I’ll go without delay,
Wherever He leads I’ll follow all the way.
J. P. Scholfield
Faithless fears our hearts are shaking;
For our succour undertaking,
Lord and Saviour, help us.
Lo! the world from thee rebelling,
Round thy church, in pride is swelling;
With thy word their madness quelling,
Lord and Saviour, help us.
On thine own command relying,
We our onward task are plying,
Unto thee for safety sighing,
Lord and Saviour, help us.
By thy birth, thy cross, thy passion,
By thy tears of deep compassion,
By thy mighty intercession,
Lord and Saviour, help us.
Henry Alford
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Bird Nest on a Ceiling Light with O what a mighty change and There’s not a bird with lonely nest
O what a mighty change
Shall Jesus’ sufferers know,
While o’er the happy plains they range
Incapable of woe!
No ill-requited love
Shall there our spirits wound:
No base ingratitude above,
No sin in heaven is found.
No slightest touch of pain,
Nor sorrow’s least alloy,
Can violate our rest, or stain
Our purity of joy:
In that eternal day
No clouds or tempests rise;
There gushing tears are wiped away
Forever from our eyes.
Charles Wesley
There’s not a bird with lonely nest,
In pathless wood or mountain crest,
Nor meaner thing, which does not share,
O God, in thy paternal care.
Each barren crag, each desert rude,
Holds thee within its solitude;
And thou dost bless the wanderer there,
Who makes his solitary prayer.
In busy mart, or crowded street,
No less than in the still retreat,
Thou, Lord, are near our souls to bless
With all a parent’s tenderness.
And every moment still doth bring
Thy blessings on its loaded wing;
Widely they spread through earth and sky,
And last through all eternity.
And we where’er our lot is cast,
While life and thought and feeling last,
Through all our years, in every place,
Will bless thee for thy boundless grace.
G. T. Noel
Shall Jesus’ sufferers know,
While o’er the happy plains they range
Incapable of woe!
No ill-requited love
Shall there our spirits wound:
No base ingratitude above,
No sin in heaven is found.
No slightest touch of pain,
Nor sorrow’s least alloy,
Can violate our rest, or stain
Our purity of joy:
In that eternal day
No clouds or tempests rise;
There gushing tears are wiped away
Forever from our eyes.
Charles Wesley
There’s not a bird with lonely nest,
In pathless wood or mountain crest,
Nor meaner thing, which does not share,
O God, in thy paternal care.
Each barren crag, each desert rude,
Holds thee within its solitude;
And thou dost bless the wanderer there,
Who makes his solitary prayer.
In busy mart, or crowded street,
No less than in the still retreat,
Thou, Lord, are near our souls to bless
With all a parent’s tenderness.
And every moment still doth bring
Thy blessings on its loaded wing;
Widely they spread through earth and sky,
And last through all eternity.
And we where’er our lot is cast,
While life and thought and feeling last,
Through all our years, in every place,
Will bless thee for thy boundless grace.
G. T. Noel
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