People of the Living God
People of the living God,
I have sought the world around;
Paths of sin and sorrow trod,
Peace and comfort nowhere found:
Now to you my spirit turns—
Turns a fugitive unblest;
Brethren, where your altar burns,
Oh, receive me into rest.
Lonely I no longer roam
Like the cloud, the wind, the wave;
Where you dwell shall be my home,
Where you die shall be my grave;
Mine the God Whom you adore;
Your Redeemer shall be mine;
Earth can fill my soul no more—
Every idol I resign.
Tell me not of gain and loss,
Ease, enjoyment, pomp, and pow’r;
Welcome poverty and cross,
Shame reproach, affliction’s hour.
“Follow Me”—I know Thy voice;
Jesus, Lord, Thy steps I see;
Now I take Thy yoke by choice,
Light Thy burden now to me.
poem by James Montgomery
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The Solitary
I have been lonely all my days on earth,
Living a life within my secret soul,
With mine own springs of sorrow and of mirth,
Beyond the world's control.
Though sometimes with vain longing I have sought
To walk the paths where other mortals tread,
To wear the clothes for other mortals wrought,
And eat the selfsame bread -
Yet have I ever found, when thus I strove
To mould my life upon the common plan,
That I was furthest from all truth and love,
And least a living man.
Truth frowned upon my poor hypocrisy,
Life left my soul, and dwelt but in my sense;
No man could love me, for all men could see
The hollow vain pretence.
Their clothes sat on me with outlandish air,
Upon their easy road I tripped and fell,
And still I sickened of the wholesome fare
On which they nourished well.
I was a stranger in that company,
A Galilean whom his speech bewrayed,
And when they lifted up their songs of glee,
My voice sad discord made.
Peace for mine own self I could never find,
And still my presence marred the general peace,
And when I parted, leaving them behind,
They felt, and I, release.
So will I follow now my spirit's bent,
Not scorning those who walk the beaten track,
Yet not despising mine own banishment,
Nor often looking back.
Their way is best for them, but mine for me.
And there is comfort for my lonely heart,
To think perhaps our journeys' ends may be
Not very far apart.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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In Sickness
Jesus, since I with thee am one,
Confirm my soul in thee,
And still continue to tread down
The man of sin in me.
Let not the subtle foe prevail
In this my feeble hour,
Frustrate all the hopes of hell
Redeem from Satan's pow'r.
Arm me, O Lord, from head to foot,
With righteousness divine;
My soul in Jesus firmly root,
And seal the Saviour mine.
Proportion'd to my pains below,
O let my joys increase,
And mercy to my spirit flow
In healing streams of peace.
In life and death be thou my God,
And I am more than safe:
Chastis'd by thy paternal rod,
Support me with thy staff.
Lay on me, Saviour, what thou wilt,
But give me strength to bear:
Thy gracious hand this cross hath dealt,
Which cannot be severe.
As gold refin'd may I come out,
In sorrow's furnace try'd;
Preserved from faithfulness and doubt,
And fully putify'd.
When, overwhelm'd with sore distress,
Out of the pit I cry,
On Jesus suffering in my place
Help me to fix mine eye.
When marr'd with tears, and blood, and sweat,
The glorious sufferer lay,
And in my stead sustain'd the heat
And burden of the day.
The pangs which my weak nature knows
Are swallow'd up in thine:
How numberless thy pondrous woes!
How few, how light are mine!
O might I learn of thee to bear
Temptation, pain and loss!
Give me a heart inur'd to prayer,
And fitted to the cross.
Make me, O Lord, thy patient son;
Thy language mine shall be:
"Father, thy gracious will be done,
I take the cup from thee."
While thus my soul is fixt on him
Once fasten'd to the wood,
Safe shall I pass through Jordan's stream,
And reach the realms of God.
And when my soul mounts up to keep
With thee the marriage feast,
I shall not die, but fall asleep
On my Redeemer's breast.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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True Saving Faith
Faith that doesn’t change a soul, is faith that doesn’t save at all,
With the saving Power of the Lord, a changed life He will afford,
When the soul truly has believed, and His Spirit they’ve received,
Change must be seen in all men, who in the Lord are Born Again.
A changed soul becomes a life, that lives today for Jesus Christ,
By God’s power that dwells within, a true believer saved from sin,
The Power of the Spirit of God, Who, redirects the path you trod,
While they remain upon this earth, through the power of New Birth.
Every single believer, in The Lord, is a fallen sinner, now restored,
Back to a relationship with God, now, to be led by Staff and Rod,
Those of The Shepherd above, guiding us daily to share the love,
Of the blessed Cross of Calvary, pointing other sinners to eternity.
We are no longer left here to roam, for up in Heaven, is our Home,
We’re saved to be a living sacrifice, and point all men to Paradise,
A change that’s central for everyone, who truly follows God’s Son,
Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Who, bought us all with a price.
Faith is more than to just believe, it’s to share the Truth we receive,
It is done through change by Him, God, Who saved us from all sin,
God’s desire indeed for all of us, is to copy our Lord, Christ Jesus,
That all believer’s lives will herald, a testimony of Him, to this world.
(Copyright ©02/2011)
In Christ Is Life
We have peace and God’s presence, wherever The Good Lord sends us,
Even when no peace can be found, Christ sets our feet on stable ground.
God gives our feet a steadiness, through The Lord’s own Righteousness,
The Righteousness of Jesus Christ; this through His Spirit and New Life.
The Lord, who sets us on our course, will be for us, God’s faithful source,
Of His Peace and Light along the way, even in through life’s darkest day.
God’s Peace shall comfort any heart, which trusts in Christ from the start,
Anyone who calls upon Jesus Christ, to lead them through their daily life.
Daily Christ Jesus can give to you, the Grace of God to see you through,
He’ll see you through each day and hour, with His Grace and His Power.
My Friend, even in the darkest night, Christ will guide you with His Light,
In this world The Lord Jesus Christ, is for all men today, The Light of life.
Christ can guide all men my friend, from their beginning to the very end,
The Lord can guide both you and me, from earth’s beginning to Eternity.
And God above can guide everyone, through Jesus Christ His Only Son,
For His One and Only Son, Jesus Christ, is the very Author of every life.
Jesus Christ is Creator and He’s God, of the very earth that all men trod,
God who placed you upon this earth, in Christ can give you a New Birth,
To be born again and live forevermore, with our God and Christ our Lord.
Today come to God through Jesus Christ, and you will have Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©01/2007)
His Body And Blood
I thank God for His grace and love, and for Christ’s Body and Blood,
His Body that was God’s Sacrifice, Jesus’ Body that paid sin’s price,
For Christ’s Blood, that was spilled, as The Father above, had willed,
For our Lord’s death at Calvary, so that believers could live Eternally.
It is through the very Blood of Christ, that sinners can have New Life,
From the Body, prepared for Him, redeeming souls from all their sin,
For The Lord had sent His Only Son, to be Redemption for everyone,
And all we must do is to believe, and God’s Salvation we will receive.
Today an empty grave now shows, though He died, Christ has arose,
The same power will be given to us, who, have come to Christ Jesus,
Though we are still on the earth, we receive God’s Spirit by New Birth,
Promised by our Lord to all men, when in Christ, they are Born Again.
Born of God, by The Spirit above, when we’re cleansed by His Blood,
Forgiven of all our sin and shame, all through the Power of His Name,
We are now the children of God, to walk anew upon the earth we trod,
To no longer be a part of the night, but now, to be The Savior’s Light.
This, all because God loved us first, even, when we were at our worst,
And His love was for all sinners lost, so our Lord employed the cross,
Crucifying Christ the Spotless Lamb, to pay sin’s price for every man,
This is His New Covenant of Blood, provided to us all by God’s Love.
Christmas 2007 Song – 12
Joy to the world, a Savior’s born!
Peace to men of good-will!
Let every heart receive the Lord;
Pay homage to the king;
Adore the King of kings;
As heaven rejoices, mankind sings!
Joy to the earth, God’s Son is born!
He chose the humblest way!
Let every soul receive His grace;
Ask forgiveness of sins;
Receive the peace, He brings;
As heaven rejoices, mankind sings!
Joy to all souls, for Jesus’ born
Of Virgin Mary Queen!
Let everyone, heed to His call;
Redeemer of the world;
Heaven is nigh to all;
As heaven rejoices, mankind sings!
Joy to the world on Christmas Day!
Christ has come for sinners;
Repent and be saved;
The Lord has paid the price,
By death upon the cross;
By death upon the cross;
As heaven rejoices, mankind sings!
poem by John Celes
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Evensong
The sun has set; grey shadows darken slowly
The rose-red cloud-hills that were bathed in light.
O Lord, to Thee, with spirit meek and lowly,
I kneel in prayer to-night.
I thank Thee for my “daily bread”—the sorrow
And the gladness Thou hast given me this day—
The strange rich gifts which, through a long to-morrow,
Deep in my soul will stay.
I thank Thee for the grace that aye restrainèd
My passionate will when it was bent for wrong—
That fed the soul-lamp when the light had wanèd,
And made the weak hands strong.
I thank Thee that the gentle voice of pleading
Made itself heard amid the whirl and strife—
E'en when I walk'd my wilful way unheeding,
Telling of light and life.
That in the sad hour of my soul's affliction,
When I look'd backward as from parchèd lands,
The “gracious rain” of heavenly benediction
Fell still from outstretch'd hands.
Ay, ay, no earnest hope, no true endeavour,
Has been unanswer'd or unbless'd by Thee:
Thou, Lord, who carest for Thine own for ever,
Hast cared indeed for me.
I think of all the blessing and the sweetness
That made the burden of this day so light,
How my home-ties are still in their completeness
Wound round my heart to-night;
How Thou hast had my treasures in Thy keeping,
And yet hast spared them to be mine—still mine;
How o'er the beds where my loved ones are sleeping
Thy folded wings will shine.
And, O my God! I cannot thank Thee duly—
No word or deed which Jesus' love will take
Can span the measure of one blessing truly.
Forgive—for Jesus' Sake!
poem by Ada Cambridge
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The Lord Is My Portion
From pole to pole let others roam,
And search in vain for bliss;
My soul is satisfied at home,
The Lord my portion is.
Jesus, who on his glorious throne
Rules heav'n and earth and sea;
Is pleased to claim me for his own,
And give himself to me.
His person fixes all my love,
His blood removes my fear;
And while he pleads for me above,
His arm preserves me here.
His word of promise is my food,
His Spirit is my guide;
Thus daily is my strength renewed
And all my wants supplied.
For him I count as gain each loss,
Disgrace, for him, renown;
Well may I glory in his cross,
While he prepares my crown!
Let worldlings then indulge their boast,
How much they gain or spend!
Their joys must soon give up the ghost,
But mine shall know no end.
poem by John Newton
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Easter Eve
At length the worst is o'er, and Thou art laid
Deep in Thy darksome bed;
All still and cold beneath yon dreary stone
Thy sacred form is gone;
Around those lips where power and mercy hung,
The dews of deaths have clung;
The dull earth o'er Thee, and Thy foes around,
Thou sleep'st a silent corse, in funeral fetters wound.
Sleep'st Thou indeed? or is Thy spirit fled,
At large among the dead?
Whether in Eden bowers Thy welcome voice
Wake Abraham to rejoice,
Or in some drearier scene Thine eye controls
The thronging band of souls;
That, as Thy blood won earth, Thine agony
Might set the shadowy realm from sin and sorrow free.
Where'er Thou roam'st, one happy soul, we know,
Seen at Thy side in woe,
Waits on Thy triumphs--even as all the blest
With him and Thee shall rest.
Each on his cross; by Thee we hang a while,
Watching Thy patient smile,
Till we have learned to say, "'Tis justly done,
Only in glory, LORD, Thy sinful servant own."
Soon wilt Thou take us to Thy tranquil bower
To rest one little hour,
Till Thine elect are numbered, and the grave
Call Thee to come and save:
Then on Thy bosom borne shall we descend
Again with earth to blend,
Earth all refined with bright supernal fires,
Tinctured with holy blood, and winged with pure desires.
Meanwhile with every son and saint of Thine
Along the glorious line,
Sitting by turns beneath Thy sacred feet
We'll hold communion sweet,
Know them by look and voice, and thank them all
For helping us in thrall,
For words of hope, and bright examples given
To show through moonless skies that there is light in Heaven.
O come that day, when in this restless heart
Earth shall resign her part,
When in the grave with Thee my limbs shall rest,
My soul with Thee be blest!
But stay, presumptuous--CHRIST with Thee abides
In the rock's dreary sides:
He from this stone will wring Celestial dew
If but this prisoner's heart he faithful found and true.
When tears are spent, and then art left alone
With ghosts of blessings gone,
Think thou art taken from the cross, and laid
In JESUS' burial shade;
Take Moses' rod, the rod of prayer, and call
Out of the rocky wall
The fount of holy blood; and lift on high
Thy grovelling soul that feels so desolate and dry.
Prisoner of Hope thou art--look up and sing
In hope of promised spring.
As in the pit his father's darling lay
Beside the desert way,
And knew not how, but knew his GOD would save
E'en from that living grave,
So, buried with our LORD, we'll chose our eyes
To the decaying world, till Angels bid us rise.
poem by John Keble
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Psalm 25 part 3
v.15-22
S. M.
Distress of soul; or, Backsliding and desertion.
Mine eyes and my desire
Are ever to the Lord;
I love to plead his promises,
And rest upon his word.
Turn, turn thee to my soul,
Bring thy salvation near;
When will thy hand release my feet
Out of the deadly snare?
When shall the sovereign grace
Of my forgiving God
Restore me from those dangerous ways
My wand'ring feet have trod?
The tumult of my thoughts
Doth but enlarge my woe;
My spirit languishes, my heart
Is desolate and low.
With ev'ry morning light
My sorrow new begins;
Look on my anguish and my pain,
And pardon all my sins.
PAUSE.
Behold the hosts of hell,
How cruel is their hate!
Against my life they rise, and join
Their fury with deceit.
O keep my soul from death,
Nor put my hope to shame,
For I have placed my only trust
In my Redeemer's name.
With humble faith I wait
To see thy face again:
Of Isr'el it shall ne'er be said,
He sought the Lord in vain.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Good Friday
Is it not strange, the darkest hour
That ever dawned on sinful earth
Should touch the heart with softer power
For comfort than an angel's mirth?
That to the Cross the mourner's eye should turn
Sooner than where the stars of Christmas burn?
Sooner than where the Easter sun
Shines glorious on yon open grave,
And to and fro the tidings run,
"Who died to heal, is risen to save?"
Sooner than where upon the Saviour's friends
The very Comforter in light and love descends?
Yet so it is: for duly there
The bitter herbs of earth are set,
Till tempered by the Saviour's prayer,
And with the Saviour's life-blood wet,
They turn to sweetness, and drop holy balm,
Soft as imprisoned martyr's deathbed calm.
All turn to sweet--but most of all
That bitterest to the lip of pride,
When hopes presumptuous fade and fall,
Or Friendship scorns us, duly tried,
Or Love, the flower that closes up for fear
When rude and selfish spirits breathe too near.
Then like a long-forgotten strain
Comes sweeping o'er the heart forlorn
What sunshine hours had taught in vain
Of JESUS suffering shame and scorn,
As in all lowly hearts he suffers still,
While we triumphant ride and have the world at will.
His pierced hands in vain would hide
His face from rude reproachful gaze,
His ears are open to abide
The wildest storm the tongue can raise,
He who with one rough word, some early day,
Their idol world and them shall sweep for aye away.
But we by Fancy may assuage
The festering sore by Fancy made,
Down in some lonely hermitage
Like wounded pilgrims safely laid,
Where gentlest breezes whisper souls distressed,
That Love yet lives, and Patience shall find rest.
O! shame beyond the bitterest thought
That evil spirit ever framed,
That sinners know what Jesus wrought,
Yet feel their haughty hearts untamed -
That souls in refuge, holding by the Cross,
Should wince and fret at this world's little loss.
Lord of my heart, by Thy last cry,
Let not Thy blood on earth be spent -
Lo, at Thy feet I fainting lie,
Mine eyes upon Thy wounds are bent,
Upon Thy streaming wounds my weary eyes
Wait like the parched earth on April skies.
Wash me, and dry these bitter tears,
O let my heart no further roam,
'Tis Thine by vows, and hopes, and fears.
Long since--O call Thy wanderer home;
To that dear home, safe in Thy wounded side,
Where only broken hearts their sin and shame may hide.
poem by John Keble
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Though Some Good Things Of Lower Worth
The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance. Psalm 16:5.
Though some good things of lower worth
My heart is called on to resign,
Of all the gifts in heaven and earth,
The greatest and the best is mine
The love of God in Christ made known
The love that is enough alone,
My Father's love is all my own.
My soul's Restorer, let me learn
In that deep love to live and rest
Let me the precious thing discern
Of which I am indeed possessed.
My treasure let me feel and see,
And let my moments, as they flee,
Unfold my endless life in Thee.
Let me not dwell so much within
My bounded heart, with anxious heed
Where all my searches meet with sin,
And nothing satisfies my need
It shuts me from the sound and sight
Of that pure world of life and light,
Which has no breadth, or length, or height.
Let me Thy power, Thy beauty see;
So shall the hopeless labor cease,
And my free heart shall follow thee
Through paths of everlasting peace.
My strength Thy gift, my life Thy care,
I shall forget to seek elsewhere
The wealth to which my soul is heir.
I was not called to walk alone,
To clothe myself with love and light;
And for Thy glory, not my own,
My soul is precious in Thy sight.
My evil heart can never be
A home, a heritage for me
But Thou canst make it fit for Thee.
poem by Anna Laetitia Waring
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My Life Story
Everybody has a life story; mine, was touched by God’s Glory,
As God changed my entire life, through The Lord, Jesus Christ,
With new purpose and direction, not by mine, but His selection,
As God, Himself, selected me, to become a part of His Family.
Sealing me with the Spirit of God, a new direction, I would trod,
Saving me from darkened strife, God sent His light into my life,
Light that guides me to this day, guiding me on the narrow way,
A new path far from the one, I walked before I knew God’s Son.
Change came the moment when, I in Christ, became born again,
Born of God from Heaven above, filled with new hope and love,
Hope that looks past the grave, with the power He used to save,
My wretched soul from all sin, and now God’s power lives within.
The Lord now dwells in my heart, and His Spirit will never depart,
And so in this Truth I now abide, as my Savior walks by my side,
With me even in dark times friend; leading me around each bend.
In a world where wrong is right, Jesus Christ, is my Guiding Light.
Saved out of a darkened world, The Truths of God, I now herald,
Saved from a world where sin rife, the Lord God touched my life,
Leading me now in Righteousness, not mine, but of Christ Jesus,
A Righteousness that granted me, life with Christ Jesus Eternally.
(Copyright ©04/2011)
Deus Absconditus
SINCE Thou dost clothe Thyself to-day in cloud,
Lord God in heaven, and no voice low or loud
Proclaims Thee,--see, I turn me to the Earth,
Its wisdom and its sorrow and its mirth,
Thy Earth perchance, but sure my very own,
And precious to me grows the clod, the stone,
A voiceless moor's brooding monotony,
A keen star quivering through the sunset dye,
Young wrinkled beech leaves, saturate with light,
The arching wave's suspended malachite;
I turn to men, Thy sons perchance, but sure
My brethren, and no face shall be too poor
To yield me some unquestionable gain
Of wonder, laughter, loathing, pity, pain,
Some dog-like craving caught in human eyes,
Some new-wak'd spirit's April ecstasies;
These will not fail nor foil me; while I live
There will be actual truck in take and give,
But Thou hast foil'd me; therefore undistraught,
I cease from seeking what will not be sought,
Or sought, will not be found through joy or fear;
If still Thou claimst me, seek me. I am here.
poem by Edward Dowden
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More Than Just Life
I’m truly alive this very day, through The Truth, The Life and Way,
For today I’m alive in Jesus Christ, the Author of my Eternal Life.
I was alive but spiritually dead, with the certainty of death ahead,
But in The Spirit, Christ came to me, giving me new life Eternally.
I lived all of my days at a loss, in the shadow of Calvary’s Cross,
But then Christ pierced that night, with The Blessed Gospel Light.
On the cross, through His pain, I received from God eternal gain,
And now this life, I live for Him, The Lord who died for all my sin.
I no longer strive in emptiness, but live in Christ’s Righteousness,
A righteousness bestowed on me, from on that cross of Calvary.
A gift of God’s Awesome Grace, when His Son died in my place,
When this gift to me He did impart, He came to dwell in my heart.
Now I don’t live just to survive, but through The Lord I truly thrive,
Living for God an abundant life, through my Savior Jesus Christ.
With The Holy Spirit’s Power, Christ helps me every waking hour,
To live a special life for God, while on this mundane earthly sod.
My life doesn’t end down here, as the end of all is drawing near,
For I will be in a mansion sublime, to continue on for all of time,
And the life I’ve lived on earth, won’t compare to heaven’s worth,
Where we will live in perfect unity, with our Savior for all Eternity.
I Am
He spoke, “I am who I am”, Said the Creator of all men.
Yes, He is the very Word, that all have read and heard.
Jesus Christ is God, friend; the Beginning and The End.
Jesus said about Abraham, “before he was born, I am! ”
“I Am the Bread of Life”, were the words of Jesus Christ.
The true manna from above, sent by the Father’s Love.
He said “I am the Living Bread”, giving life to the dead.
I’m God’s and He is mine, in Christ’s love that is divine.
Jesus said “I am The Light”, to draw men from the night.
The Light of the world friend; The Light that has no end.
You’ll be in dark no more, as you follow Christ as Lord.
Christ said ”I am the vine”, and in Christ we must abide.
Jesus said “I am The Way”, and that’s what He is today.
The Way, Truth and the Life; found only in Jesus Christ.
Come, for “I Am the Door”, were the words of The Lord.
The Only Door to Eternal Life, is The Son Jesus Christ.
“I am The Good Shepherd”, and Savior of the wayward.
Even many that are scattered, by Jesus will be gathered.
“I am The Resurrection”; Christ is hope for every nation.
His victory over the grave, gives hope to those He saves.
He is all this and much more, if you know Christ as Lord.
The Alpha and Omega friend, the beginning and the end.
Just believe in Jesus Christ, and you receive Eternal Life.
What He said don’t dismiss, for He is, who He said He is.
09/2005
Long Did I Toil
Long did I toil, and knew no earthly rest,
Far did I rove, and found no certain home;
At last I sought them in His sheltering breast,
Who opes His arms, and bids the weary come:
With Him I found a home, a rest divine,
And since then I am His, and He is mine.
The good I have is from His stores supplied,
The ill is only what He deems the best;
He for my Friend, I’m rich with naught beside,
And poor without Him, though of all possessed:
Changes may come, I take, or I resign,
Content, while I am His, while He is mine.
Whate’er may change, in Him no change is seen,
A glorious Sun that wanes not nor declines;
Above the clouds and storms He walks serene,
And on His people’s inward darkness shines:
All may depart—I fret not, nor repine,
While I my Savior’s am, while He is mine.
While here, alas! I know but half His love,
But half discern Him, and but half adore;
But when I meet Him in the realms above,
I hope to love Him better, praise Him more,
And feel, and tell, amid the choir divine,
How fully I am His, and He is mine.
poem by Henry Francis Lyte
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From The Cantata For N. F. S. Grundtvig
His day was the greatest the Northland has seen,
It one was with the midnight-sun's wonders serene:
The light wherein he sat was the light of God's true peace,
And that has never morning, nor night when it must cease.
In light of God's peace shone the
history
he gave,
The spirit's course on earth that shall conquer the grave.
Might of God's pure peace thus our
fathers'
mighty way
Before us for example and warning open lay.
In light of God's peace he beheld with watchful eye
The people at their work and the spirit's strivings high.
In light of God's pure peace he would have all learning glow,
And where his word is honored the 'Folk-High-Schools' must grow.
In light of God's peace stood 'mid sorrow and care
For Denmark's folk his comfort, a castle strong and fair;
In light of God's pure peace there shall once again be won
And thousand-fold increased, what seems lost now and undone.
In light of God's peace stands his patriarch-worth,
The sum and the amen of a manful life on earth.
In light of God's pure peace how his face shone, lifted up,
When white-haired at the altar he held th' atoning cup.
In light of God's peace came his word o'er the wave,
In light of God's pure peace sound the sweet psalms he gave.
In light of God's pure peace, as its sunbeam curtains fall
To hide him from us, stands now his memory for all.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Our Paths May Never Cross
Lady I know your out there somewhere
Like me your feeling lost
Maybe right now we both need each other
But our paths may never cross
People like us never find each other
Love is our greatest loss
Baby I know you are out there some where
But our paths may never cross
Were to people that should be together
Cause were lonely at the very same time
But theres a million to many good reasons
Why your love can never be mine
Maby this song was written for you
Listen, dont turn it off
I wish you could learn it
And come sing it with me
But our paths may never cross
I wish you could learn it
And come sing it with me
But our paths may never cross
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Condescending Love
God, who’s seated above the sky, condescended to this world below.
He who reigns from up on high, came to earth with His Love to show.
God sent His Son for you and I, a Savior sent, whom we could know.
The Living God came down to die; having sent a gift of life to bestow.
A gift to bestow to all the earth, and the gift from God is Eternal Life.
A gift to the world of eternal worth, the gift was His Only Son Christ.
He came to fill our hearts with mirth, in this world of darkened strife.
He came to offer us New Birth, and by His Spirit we have New Life.
Christ left His Throne in Paradise, and came into this darkened world.
Jesus came to be God’s Sacrifice, is the message John would herald.
Christ is The Way, Truth and Life, and came as The Light of the world.
New Life is only in Jesus Christ, is the message we all need to herald.
All who believe upon Jesus Christ, from The Lord receive a New Birth.
Then receive a New Spirit and Life, built upon our dear Savior’s worth.
We then become a living sacrifice, as His ambassadors on this earth.
With New Life we point to Christ, as we look towards an Eternal mirth.
Christ condescended once my friend, down to this lost world in need.
The first time He met a tragic end, when nailed upon a cross to bleed.
But Christ did this for us my friend, so in the Savior we could believe.
Today Heaven can be your end, if only Christ Jesus you will receive.