The Lord has spoken to the void
And brought about a great expanse.
Into a world of life devoid,
He called creation up to dance.
He formed the fabric of this time,
And light was his divine decree.
No language can his glory rhyme;
He rules o’er all in sov’reignty.
He is the Author of all love,
All pleasure too, his gift of grace,
All wonder at the stars above,
And ev’ry wonder of this space.
O magnify the grace of God,
And praise the perfect Lord of all,
And join with all, the sky and sod,
Resounding his all glorious call.
Poetry
The Humble Ruler
The humble ruler born to die did come
Desiring not the trappings of a king.
Far greater than all earthly glory’s sum,
He entered his own world through suffering.
Presuming not to take the place of prince,
He lived instead a life of sacrifice.
His poverty did make the wealthy wince,
Yet he was fit to pay the ransom price.
So well acquainted was he with our grief,
Afflicted by the wrath of God above.
The silent, slaughtered lamb has won relief,
And, by his wounds, he heals our hearts in love.
In service did the Master live and die
And rise to rescue lost ones from the lie.
Who Is A God Like You?
Who is a God like you
That you should hear our cries,
And pardon our iniquity,
And never speak in lies?
Who is a God like you
That we are not too small
For you to stoop and seek and save
Our souls from our great fall?
Who is a God like you
That you should suffer loss,
And leave your throne to bear the curse
Of sin upon that cross?
Who is a God like you
Who overcomes our death
Who makes the broken heart to beat
And gives us saving breath?
Salvation
O God, I humbly must confess
My love for all unrighteousness.
My love for you, I know, is less
Than my desire for filthiness.
And I, by my own might, cannot
Erase the blemish, ban the blot
Of sin. This wound I cannot clot.
Apart from help, this life will rot.
So come before this heart of dross
That festers underneath the gloss
Makes of this man a total loss.
O God, how I deserve that cross.
I know there is no good in me.
Your son, I could not hope to be,
For by your Word, I better see:
My only hope must come from Thee.
And though I cannot earn your peace,
By grace you do from sin release
My soul, and cause my death to cease.
Your holy blood has washed my fleece.
Depravity cannot repel
The Savior snatching souls from hell.
And though we wear this dying shell,
Our ears will hear the wedding bell.
So let me never now lose sight
Of your great glory, grace, and might,
And let your holy, saving light
Shine through and make me ever bright.
A Joyful Cogitation
What beauty does exist for those
Whose lives are lost for better life,
For from the death of flesh arose
Freedom and vict’ry over strife!
In Christ, the perfect priest of hope
Indwelling all whom he has gleaned,
No devil now can interlope
Near to the souls the blood has cleaned.
A joy now reigns in time of loss,
And loss of all is highest gain.
Salvation, that the crux – the cross,
Succeeded in the Savior’s pain.
Pure now, the slate of sinful man,
Purged by surrender to the King.
“Repentance! Glory! Heaven’s plan!”
Redemption opens lips to sing.
Destruction now can not destroy.
Despair no longer holds its pow’r.
Temptation fails to be a ploy
Though hell should loose itself this hour.
Christ’s work has won a life of peace.
Creation’s hope we recognize.
Old, earthly treasures we release.
Onward we march! On to the prize!
Security
Though through the darkest valleys I
May pass in my pursuit of thee
I will remember thou art nigh
And call to mind your love for me
And though my path be wrought with pain
From broken hopes and shattered dreams
I will find joy in you again
And rest in you by peaceful streams
And though the sorrow may increase
Beyond all limits I perceived
You are for me a constant peace
The Lord in whom I have believed
Though weakness and despair abound
As mortal flesh its limits reach
In you, my strength afresh is found
As I your aid do now beseech
Rejoice, O joyful Christian
Rejoice, O joyful Christian
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Faith
O blessed joy of ignorance
As to what lies ahead,
For fears assault my common sense
In search of steps to tread.
My future lies unknown to me
Beyond my line of sight,
And as I look to what I see,
My heart is filled with fright.
This drives me to despair in hope
In what I can create
Until, as I in darkness grope,
I learn to sit and wait.
O blessed desperation which
Destroys the idol’s hold
And shows me that I am not rich
In faith like saints of old.
O blessed pain that pushes back
Against my comfort’s walls
And makes me see my state of lack
Instead of white washed halls.
Oh bless the trial that makes me know
I have no hope but one.
I can’t complain if I would grow
In light of God’s own Son.
My flesh is strong, my weakness vast,
My hope in self has died.
His love is proved from ages past.
In him, I shall abide.
Thanatopsis
Thanatopsis
The time will come when mortal moments cease,
When breath will leave these lungs to draw no more.
It matters not my state of war or peace:
Death still shall come to knock upon my door.
Then I shall greet him not as foe, but friend,
For his is not the victory to gain.
Although, in time, my life may seem to end,
Eternity my soul will then attain.
For I have died already, yet I walk,
Alive because the Word did more than talk.
Jars of Clay
I’m not good at letting people see me struggle. Continue reading
as i learn to walk 