Psalm 131
Humility and submission.
Is there ambition in my heart?.
Search, gracious God, and see;
Or do I act a haughty part?
Lord, I appeal to thee.
I charge my thoughts, be humble still,
And all my carriage mild,
Content, my Father, with thy will,
And quiet as a child.
The patient soul, the lowly mind,
Shall have a large reward:
Let saints in sorrow lie resigned,
And trust a faithful Lord.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Its About Time
I used to be a famous artist
Proud as I could be
Struggling to express myself
For the whole world to see
I used to blow my mind sky high
Searching for the lost elation
Little did I know the joy I was to find
In knowing I am only me
Im singin in my heart
Im singin in my heart
Im singin love to sing
I love to sing it from my heart
Oh the creation yeah
Of a good time doin my part
With an open-hearted laugh of realization in my mind
And now Im but a child who art
Erect in humility
Serving out a love for everyone I meet
In truth who are really me
Im singin in my heart
Im singin in my heart
Im singin love to sing
I love to sing it from my heart
No-no-no no no
Hoo no hey yeah no-no-no-no
Its about time now its about time now
Its about time now dont you know now
Its about time now its about time now
Its about time now dont you know now
Its about time we get together
To be out front and love one another
Brothers sisters everybody
We better start to help each other now
We need it now
When were sharin our love brother
Thats when we know we can shape another world
Lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord lord
Oooh lord
Lord lord lord lord lord oh oh
Oh no lord no no oh
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Humility And Pride
Two emotions deep down inside, are those of humility and pride,
They produce what men may see, in the life of both you and me.
A haughty spirit can sure reside, in a heart that’s filled with pride.
A humble spirit is in you and me, when you’re filled with humility.
You can lift yourself up with pride, but God’s Word is not denied,
And God’s Word is clear and loud, God will humble all the proud.
Men may believe that they are wise; but that is only in their eyes.
For all of pride, my dear friend, by The Lord shall be condemned.
Men who are humble and meek, by proud men considered weak,
By The Lord are never despised, but truly favored in God’s eyes.
The Lord will exalt humble men; for this is in His Word my friend,
They will be lifted up by The Lord, as by God they’re not ignored.
On the cross there was no pride, as Jesus Christ our Savior died.
Christ had displayed for us humility, as The Savior of all humanity.
The Eternal God, far from weak, was to all men humble and meek.
God’s example is for all to behold, and His Word will not grow old.
Friend pride can be a hindrance, to the life Christ has given to us,
Pride will never be used by God, but it shall be judged by His rod.
Allow Christ’s humble spirit within, then you shall be used by Him,
As only a meek and humble life, truly displays the power of Christ.
(Copyright ©05/2006)
I Trust In You Lord
Whenever I feel alone in this world
I trust in you lord
Whenever I feel no one cares me
I trust in you lord
Whenever I ashamed in front of others
I trust in you lord
Whenever my situations change so bad
I trust in you lord
Whenever my eyes cannot accommodate my tears
I trust in you lord
Whenever I become financially dreadful
I trust in you lord
Whenever I cannot shout like others
I trust in you lord
Whenever people close their eyes towards me
I trust in you lord
Whenever I cannot take any decisions
I trust in you lord
Whenever I feel myself despicable
I trust in you lord
Whenever I know nothing in my hand for tomorrow
I trust in you lord
Whenever I lose my all hope
I trust in you lord
Whenever my dreams aren't come true
I trust in you lord
Whenever I go through failure
I trust in you lord
Whenever my friends become ascendant than me
I trust in you lord
Whenever I feel I can't be in faith any more
I trust in you lord
poem by Aswathi Asok
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Psalm 34
I will bless the Lord at all times
My souls shall make its boast in thee
I will bless the Lord at all times
For He's the one who came and set me free
I sought the Lord and He heard me
And He delievered me from all my fears
I sought the Lord and He heard me
He came down and dried up all of my tears
Let our faces shine as we gaze on thee
Let us run into our strong high tower
Let our faces shine as we gaze on thee
Exalting you in this our final hour
Oh taste and see that the Lord is good
And you can trust Him with all of your heart
Oh taste and see that the Lord is good
And from Him we shall never ever part
He is close to those whose hearts are broken
And He loves a spirit that it contrite
He is close to those whose hearts are broken
He will draw near when in our darkest night
And though the afflictions of the saints are many
The Lord delivers us out of them all
And although the affliciton of the saints are many
He always hears our desperate call
poem by Frank McEleny
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Why Art Thou Thus Cast Down, My Heart?
Why art thou thus cast down, my heart?
Why troubled, why dost mourn apart,
O'er nought but earthly wealth?
Trust in thy God, be not afraid,
He is thy Friend who all things made.
Dost think thy prayers He doth not heed?
He knows full well what thou dost need,
And heaven and earth are His;
My Father and my God, who still
Is with my soul in every ill.
Since Thou my God and Father art,
I know Thy faithful loving heart
Will ne'er forget Thy child;
See I am poor, I am but dust,
On earth is none whom I can trust.
The rich man in his wealth confides,
But in my God my trust abides;
Then laugh ye as ye will,
I hold this fast that He hath taught,--
Who trusts in God shall want for nought.
Yes, Lord, Thou art as rich to-day
As Thou hast been and shalt be aye,
I rest on Thee alone;
Thy riches to my soul be given,
And 't is enough for earth and heaven.
What here may shine I all resign,
If the eternal crown be mine,
That through Thy bitter death
Thou gainedst, O Lord Christ, for me--
For this, for this, I cry to Thee!
All wealth, all glories, here below,
The best that this world can bestow,
Silver or gold or lands,
But for a little time is given,
And helps us not to enter heaven.
I thank Thee, Christ, Eternal Lord,
That Thou hast taught me by Thy word
To know this truth and Thee;
O grant me also steadfastness
Thy heavenly kingdom not to miss.
Praise, honour, thanks, to Thee be brought,
For all things in and for me wrought
By Thy great mercy, Christ.
This one thing only still I pray,
Oh cast me ne'er from Thee away
poem by Hans Sachs
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Blest are the pure in heart
Blest are the pure in heart,
For they shall see our God;
The secret of the Lord is theirs;
Their soul is Christ’s abode.
The Lord, Who left the heavens
Our life and peace to bring,
To dwell in lowliness with men
Their Pattern and their King.
Still to the lowly soul
He doth Himself impart;
And for His dwelling and His throne
Chooseth the pure in heart.
Lord, we Thy presence seek;
May ours this blessing be;
Give us a pure and lowly heart,
A temple meet for Thee.
poem by John Keble
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Psalm 56
Deliverance from oppression and falsehood.
O Thou whose justice reigns on high,
And makes th' oppressor cease,
Behold how envious sinners try
To vex and break my peace.
The sons of violence and lies
Join to devour me, Lord;
But as my hourly dangers rise,
My refuge is thy word.
In God most holy, just, and true,
I have reposed my trust;
Nor will I fear what flesh can do,
The offspring of the dust.
They wrest my words to mischief still,
Charge me with unknown faults;
Mischief doth all their counsels fill,
And malice all their thoughts.
Shall they escape without thy frown?
Must their devices stand?
O cast the haughty sinner down,
And let him know thy hand.
PAUSE.
God counts the sorrows of his saints,
Their groans affect his ears;
Thou hast a book for my complaints,
A bottle for my tears.
When to thy throne I raise my cry,
The wicked fear and flee;
So swift is prayer to reach the sky,
So near is God to me.
In thee, most holy, just, and true,
I have reposed my trust;
Nor will I fear what man can do,
The offspring of the dust.
Thy solemn vows are on me, Lord,
Thou shalt receive my praise;
I'll sing, "How faithful is thy word,
How righteous all thy ways!"
Thou hast secured my soul from death,
O set thy pris'ner free!
That heart and hand, and life and breath,
May be employ'd for thee.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Father, I Know That All My Life
"My times are in Thy hand." -- Psalm XXXI.15
Father, I know that all my life
Is portioned out for me,
And the changes that are sure to come,
I do not fear to see;
But I ask Thee for a present mind
Intent on pleasing Thee.
I ask Thee for a thoughtful love,
Through constant watching wise,
To meet the glad with joyful smiles,
And to wipe the weeping eyes;
And a heart at leisure from itself,
To soothe and sympathise.
I would not have the restless will
That hurries to and fro,
Seeking for some great thing to do
Or secret thing to know;
I would be treated as a child,
And guided where I go.
Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe'er estate,
I have a fellowship with hearts
To keep and cultivate;
And a work of lowly love to do
For the Lord on whom I wait.
So I ask Thee for the daily strength,
To none that ask denied,
And a mind to blend with outward life
While keeping at Thy side;
Content to fill a little space,
If Thou be glorified.
And if some things I do not ask,
In my cup of blessing be,
I would have my spirit filled the more
With grateful love to Thee --
More careful -- not to serve Thee much,
But to please Thee perfectly.
There are briers besetting every path,
That call for patient care;
There is a cross in every lot,
And an earnest need for prayer;
But a lowly heart that leans on Thee
Is happy anywhere.
In a service which Thy will appoints,
There are no bonds for me,
For my inmost heart is taught "the truth"
That makes Thy children "free;"
And a life of self-renouncing love
Is a life of liberty.
poem by Anna Laetitia Waring
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Psalm 86
Thy gracious ear, O Lord, encline,
O hear me I thee pray,
For I am poor, and almost pine
With need, and sad decay.
Preserve my soul, for *I have trod Heb. I am good, loving,
Thy waies, and love the just, a doer of good and
Save thou thy servant O my God holy things
Who still in thee doth trust.
Pity me Lord for daily thee
I call; 4 O make rejoyce
Thy Servants Soul; for Lord to thee
I lift my soul and voice,
For thou art good, thou Lord art prone
To pardon, thou to all
Art full of mercy, thou alone
To them that on thee call.
Unto my supplication Lord
Give ear, and to the crie
Of my incessant praiers afford
Thy hearing graciously.
I in the day of my distress
Will call on thee for aid;
For thou wilt grant me free access
And answer, what I pray'd.
Like thee among the gods is none
O Lord, nor any works
Of all that other Gods have done
Like to thy glorious works.
The Nations all whom thou hast made
Shall come, and all shall frame
To bow them low before thee Lord,
And glorifie thy name.
For great thou art, and wonders great
By thy strong hand are done,
Thou in thy everlasting Seat
Remainest God alone.
Teach me O Lord thy way most right,
I in thy truth will hide,
To fear thy name my heart unite
So shall it never slide.
Thee will I praise O Lord my God
Thee honour, and adore
With my whole heart, and blaze abroad
Thy name for ever more.
For great thy mercy is toward me,
And thou hast free'd my Soul
Eev'n from the lowest Hell set free
From deepest darkness foul.
O God the proud against me rise
And violent men are met
To seek my life, and in their eyes
No fear of thee have set.
But thou Lord art the God most mild
Readiest thy grace to shew,
Slow to be angry, and art stil'd
Most mercifull, most true.
O turn to me thy face at length,
And me have mercy on,
Unto thy servant give thy strength,
And save thy hand-maids Son.
Some sign of good to me afford,
And let my foes then see
And be asham'd, because thou Lord
Do'st help and comfort me.
poem by John Milton
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My Struggle is to be a Man
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
The owner of a rod,
Even if that is a criterion;
Women adore that rod
And use it against themselves
In sadistically pleasing pain;
They moan yet are happy,
They cry yet insist on more -
A woman will always love a man.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A successful worker,
Even if that is an ambition;
Some men are slaves
And earn a keep washing pants on Sundays
In shameless smugness;
They swot yet are content,
They are degraded yet bear it well -
A slave will always love the base.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A humble worshipper,
Even if that is a necessity;
Every soul must have its god
And pray ceaselessly to him
In faithful submission;
They suffer yet are hopeful,
They doubt yet believe -
A man is deeply spiritual.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A proud lord,
Even if that is an attraction;
Many men have to endure hardship
And oppression of every sort
In quiet longsuffering;
They are harried yet are not overcome,
They are tortured yet unruffled -
A man is resolutely resilient.
poem by Samuel Nze
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My Struggle is to be a Man
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
The owner of a rod,
Even if that is a criterion;
Women adore that rod
And use it against themselves
In sadistically pleasing pain;
They moan yet are happy,
They cry yet insist on more -
A woman will always love a man.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A successful worker,
Even if that is an ambition;
Some men are slaves
And earn a keep washing pants on Sundays
In shameless smugness;
They swot yet are content,
They are degraded yet bear it well -
A slave will always love the base.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A humble worshipper,
Even if that is a necessity;
Every soul must have its god
And pray ceaselessly to him
In faithful submission;
They suffer yet are hopeful,
They doubt yet believe -
A man is deeply spiritual.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A proud lord,
Even if that is an attraction;
Many men have to endure hardship
And oppression of every sort
In quiet longsuffering;
They are harried yet are not overcome,
They are tortured yet unruffled -
A man is resolutely resilient.
poem by Samuel Munachim
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Sonnet LXVI: The Heart of the Night
From child to youth; from youth to arduous man;
From lethargy to fever of the heart;
From faithful life to dream-dowered days apart;
From trust to doubt; from doubt to brink of ban;—
Thus much of change in one swift cycle ran
Till now. Alas, the soul!—how soon must she
Accept her primal immortality,—
The flesh resume its dust whence it began?
O Lord of work and peace! O Lord of life!
O Lord, the awful Lord of will! though late,
Even yet renew this soul with duteous breath:
That when the peace is garnered in from strife,
The work retrieved, the will regenerate,
This soul may see thy face, O Lord of death!
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The House of the Life (66): The Heart of the Night
From child to youth; from youth to arduous man;
From lethargy to fever of the heart;
From faithful life to dream-dower'd days apart;
From trust to doubt; from doubt to brink of ban;--
Thus much of change in one swift cycle ran
Till now. Alas, the soul!--how soon must she
Accept her primal immortality,--
The flesh resume its dust whence it began?
O Lord of work and peace! O Lord of life!
O Lord, the awful Lord of will! though late,
Even yet renew this soul with duteous breath:
That when the peace is garner'd in from strife,
The work retriev'd, the will regenerate,
This soul may see thy face, O Lord of death!
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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LXVI The Heart Of The Night
From child to youth; from youth to arduous man;
From lethargy to fever of the heart;
From faithful life to dream-dower'd days apart;
From trust to doubt; from doubt to brink of ban;--
Thus much of change in one swift cycle ran
Till now. Alas, the soul!--how soon must she
Accept her primal immortality,--
The flesh resume its dust whence it began?
O Lord of work and peace! O Lord of life!
O Lord, the awful Lord of will! though late,
Even yet renew this soul with duteous breath:
That when the peace is garner'd in from strife,
The work retriev'd, the will regenerate,
This soul may see thy face, O Lord of death!
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The House of Life: 66. The Heart of the Night
From child to youth; from youth to arduous man;
From lethargy to fever of the heart;
From faithful life to dream-dower'd days apart;
From trust to doubt; from doubt to brink of ban;--
Thus much of change in one swift cycle ran
Till now. Alas, the soul!--how soon must she
Accept her primal immortality,--
The flesh resume its dust whence it began?
O Lord of work and peace! O Lord of life!
O Lord, the awful Lord of will! though late,
Even yet renew this soul with duteous breath:
That when the peace is garner'd in from strife,
The work retriev'd, the will regenerate,
This soul may see thy face, O Lord of death!
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Psalm 17
v.13-15
S. M.
Portion of saints and sinners.
Arise, my gracious God,
And make the wicked flee;
They are but thy chastising rod,
To drive thy saints to thee.
Behold, the sinner dies,
His haughty words are vain;
Here in this life his pleasure lies,
And all beyond is pain.
Then let his pride advance,
And boast of all his store;
The Lord is my inheritance,
My soul can wish no more.
I shall behold the face
Of my forgiving God;
And stand complete in righteousness,
Washed in my Savior's blood.
There's a new heav'n begun,
When I awake from death,
Dressed in the likeness of thy Son,
And draw immortal breath.
poem by Isaac Watts
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In My Solitary Hours in My Dear Husband his Absence
O Lord, Thou hear'st my daily moan
And see'st my dropping tears.
My troubles all are Thee before,
My longings and my fears.
Thou hitherto hast been my God;
Thy help my soul hath found.
Though loss and sickness me assailed,
Through Thee I've kept my ground.
And Thy abode Thou'st made with me;
With Thee my soul can talk;
In secret places Thee I find
Where I do kneel or walk.
Though husband dear be from me gone,
Whom I do love so well,
I have a more beloved one
Whose comforts far excel.
O stay my heart on Thee. my God,
Uphold my fainting soul.
And when I know not what to do,
I'll on Thy mercies roll.
My weakness. Thou dost know full well
Of body and of mind;
I in this world no comfort have,
But what from Thee I find.
Though children Thou has given me,
And friends I have also,
Yet if I see Thee not through them
They are no joy, but woe.
O shine upon me, blessed Lord,
Ev'n for my Saviour's sake;
In Thee alone is more than all,
And there content I'll take.
O hear me, Lord, in this request
As Thou before hast done,
Bring back my husband, I beseech,
As Thou didst once my son.
So shall I celebrate Thy praise
Ev'n while my days shall last
And talk to my beloved one
Of all Thy goodness past.
So both of us Thy kindness, Lord,
With praises shall recount
And serve Thee better than before
Whose blessings thus surmount.
But give me, Lord, a better heart,
Then better shall I be,
To pay the vows which I do owe
Forever unto Thee.
Unless Thou help, what can I do
But still my frailty show?
If Thou assist me, Lord,
I shall Return Thee what I owe.
poem by Anne Bradstreet
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Quiet, Lord, My Froward Heart
Quiet, Lord, my froward heart,
Make me teachable and mild;
Upright, simple, free from art,
Make me as a weaned child;
From distrust and envy free,
Pleased with all that pleaseth Thee.
What Thou shalt to-day provide,
Let me as a child receive;
What to-morrow may betide,
Calmly to thy wisdom leave:
'Tis enough that Thou wilt care;
Why should I the burden bear?
As a little child relies
On a care beyond his own;
Knows he's neither strong no wise;
Fears to stir a step alone;
Let me thus with Thee abide,
As my Father, Guard, and Guide.
poem by John Newton
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Father - You Are My All
Dear Lord in Heaven, I hear your voice in the sounds of the falling rain.
I feel you Lord when the warm winds touch my face
I see you when I look at the stars high in the sky.
When no one else is near me Lord, I know you are standing by.
When I’m weak Father, you give me strength and when I’m blind
Father you find a way to make me see.
You are the wind that whispers through the swishing of trees,
the quiet still that lingers in the open sea.
You are the roar of thunder before the great rains fall.
You are the spring, summer, winter and fall.
My dear Father you are everything, you are my all.
The King of kings Lord, you sit on the great throne,
the giver of love and the taker of pain.
Father I will continue to worship you again and again.
I love you Father with all my heart and soul,
without you Father I would not be whole.
I ask Father God, that you stay within my heart
and walk with me to the end of my days.
When you take me Father to cross that threshold
to everlasting life. Please lead me on that glorious
path to Calvary where I may stand and live with thee.
Thank you Father God in the name of your precious
Son “Jesus”. A men
Written: Jan.13,2008
poem by Melvina Germain
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I speak not — I trace not — I breathe not
I speak not—I trace not—I breathe not thy name,
There is grief in the sound, there were guilt in the fame;
But the tear which now burns on my cheek may impart
The deep thoughts that dwell in that silence of heart.
Too brief for our passion, too long for our peace,
Were those hours, can their joy or their bitterness cease?
We repent—we abjure—we will break from our chain,
We will part—we will fly—to unite it again!
Oh! thine be the gladness, and mine be the guilt!
Forgive me adored one—forsake if thou wilt;
But the heart which I bear shall expire undebased,
And man shall not break it—whatever thou may'st.
And stern to the haughty, but humble to thee,
My soul, in its bitterest blackness shall be;
And our days seem as swift—and our moments more sweet
With thee by my side—than the world at our feet.
One sigh of thy sorrow—one look of thy love
Shall turn me or fix, shall reward or reprove;
And the heartless may wonder at all we resign,
Thy lip shall reply not to them—but to mine.
poem by Byron from The Hebrew Melodies (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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