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Dark Night of the Soul

Black lie
empty night
mocks my weary faith,

when with burning heart
I sink beneath
a sea of
fiery grace.

Free at last
I rise to heaven
chastened, and
by God forgiven.

poem by Steven Federle
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Hymn XXV: Stupendous Love of God Most High!

Stupendous love of God most high!
He comes to meet us from the sky
In mildest majesty;
Full of unutterable grace,
He calls the weary burdened race,
'Come all for help to me.'

Tired with the greatness of my way,
From him I would no longer stray,
But rest in Jesus have;
Weary of sin, from sin would cease,
Weary of mine own righteousness,
And stoop, myself to save.

Weary of passions unsubdued,
Weary of vows in vain renewed,
Of forms without the power,
Of prayers, and hopes, complaints, and groans,
My fainting soul in silence owns
I can hold out no more.

Beneath this mountain load of grief,
Of guilt and desperate unbelief,
Jesus, thy creature see;
With all my nature's weight oppressed,
I sink, I die for want of rest,
Yet cannot come to thee.

Mine utter helplessness I feel;
But thou, who gav'st the feeble will,
The effectual grace supply;
Be thou my strength, my light, my way,
And bid my soul the call obey,
And to thy bosom fly.

Fulfil thine own intense desire,
And now into my heart inspire
The power of faith and love;
Then, Saviour, then to thee I come,
And find on earth the life, the home,
The rest of saints above.

poem by Charles Wesley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hymn XXV: Stupendous Love of God Most High!

Stupendous love of God most high!
He comes to meet us from the sky
In mildest majesty;
Full of unutterable grace,
He calls the weary burdened race,
"Come all for help to me."

Tired with the greatness of my way,
From him I would no longer stray,
But rest in Jesus have;
Weary of sin, from sin would cease,
Weary of mine own righteousness,
And stoop, myself to save.

Weary of passions unsubdued,
Weary of vows in vain renewed,
Of forms without the power,
Of prayers, and hopes, complaints, and groans,
My fainting soul in silence owns
I can hold out no more.

Beneath this mountain load of grief,
Of guilt and desperate unbelief,
Jesus, thy creature see;
With all my nature's weight oppressed,
I sink, I die for want of rest,
Yet cannot come to thee.

Mine utter helplessness I feel;
But thou, who gav'st the feeble will,
The effectual grace supply;
Be thou my strength, my light, my way,
And bid my soul the call obey,
And to thy bosom fly.

Fulfil thine own intense desire,
And now into my heart inspire
The power of faith and love;
Then, Saviour, then to thee I come,
And find on earth the life, the home,
The rest of saints above.

poem by John Wesley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christ Is The Light

Revealing shadows of the night
Dispersing doubtful haze
When Jesus comes Salvation’s Light
Brings faith that will amaze

The faith to stand, to rise and shine
Move mountains to the sea
Turn normal water into wine
And set the captive free

Yet Light’s not all that Jesus brings
God’s Son is so much more
He is! The Light the bible sings
That leads to Heaven’s door

He’s hope, He’s joy, He’s Heaven’s grace
The strength of God’s elite
The radiance on Moses’ face
And Lamp unto our feet

When Heaven’s brilliant Light arrives
When Jesus reigns within
We’ll see the church not only thrives
But lives to combat sin

“I am! The Light” said Christ quite plain
“I came on earth to give
I came to die and rise again
In order that you live”

Walk not by night and fall astray
Be clad in robes of white
Believe in Christ God’s Son today
And walk within The Light

The Light in ever flowing streams
The Light of God divine
The Light fulfilling wildest dreams
The Light that now is mine

poem by Michael P. Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grace Of Clydeside

AH, little Grace of the golden locks,
The hills rise fair on the shores of Clyde.
As the merry waves wear out these rocks
She wears my heart out, glides past and mocks:
But heaven's gate ever stands open wide.

The boat goes softly along, along,
Like a river of life glows the amber Clyde;
Her voice floats near me like angel's song,--
Ah, sweet love-death, but thy pangs are strong!
Though heaven's gate ever stands open wide.

We walk by the shore and the stars shine bright,
But coldly, above the solemn Clyde:
Her arm touches mine--her laugh rings light--
ONE hears my silence: His merciful night
Hides me--Can heaven be open wide?

I ever was but a dreamer, Grace:
As the gray hills watch o'er the sunny Clyde,
Standing afar, each in his place,
I watch your young life's beautiful race,
Apart--until heaven be opened wide.

And sometimes when in the twilight balm
The hills grow purple along the Clyde,
The waves flow softly and very calm,
I hear all nature sing this one psalm,
That 'heaven's gate ever stands open wide.'

So, happy Grace, with your spirit free,
Laugh on! life is sweet on the banks of Clyde;
This is no blame unto thee or me;
Only God saw it could not be,
Therefore His heaven stands open wide.

poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Faith, Faith

Faith, faith,
Always makes me feel safe,
Grace, grace,
Falls down on my face,
I am forgiven,
But that's only the beginning,
Glory, glory,
I will always tell your story,
Mercy mercy,
I am always thirsty,
Thirsty for your name,
Your love, always the same,
Praise praise,
You are the one who was raised,
To save me, and the person you want me to be,
You fill me with glee,
And make me feel free,
Trust trust,
I need you in my life, you are a must,
Truth truth,
I read judges Ruth,
Your word is filled with love,
And glory from above,
It washes over me like rain,
And all my sins and blame,
Are gone in an instant,
My envy for instance,
They are gone,
I am healed not scorn,
I love you lord with all my heart,
Me and you I wish never to part,
So here I stand,
For your mighty plan,
I give you my life Christ,
Take it, your worthy,
You make it sturdy,
With you I won't fall,
With you I can Stand tall,
I can shout you name loud,
And feel my heart pound,
And at the first sound,
Of your voice in my soul,
I'll do what you want, I'll give you my all,
I am nothing,
But you make me something,
I am empty, but you make me whole,
My heart you did stole,

poem by Jordan Moore
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Thy Faithfulness, Lord

Thy faithfulness, Lord, Each moment we find,
So true to thy word, So loving and kind!
Thy mercy so tender To all the lost race,
The vilest offender May turn and find grace.

The mercy I feel To others I show,
I set to my seal That Jesus is true:
Ye all may find favour Who come at his call,
O come to my Saviour, His grace is for all!

To save what was lost, from heaven he came;
Come, sinners, and trust In Jesus's name.
He offers you pardon; He bids you be free;
'If sin be your burden, O come unto me!'

O let me commend My Saviour to you,
The publican's friend And Advocate too,
For you he is pleading His merits and death,
With God interceding for sinners beneath.

Then let us submit His grace to receive,
Fall down at his feet And gladly believe:
We all are forgiven For Jesus's sake:
Our title to heaven His merits we take.

poem by Charles Wesley
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Hymn V: Thy Faithfulness, Lord

Thy faithfulness, Lord, Each moment we find,
So true to thy word, So loving and kind!
Thy mercy so tender To all the lost race,
The vilest offender May turn and find grace.

The mercy I feel To others I show,
I set to my seal That Jesus is true:
Ye all may find favour Who come at his call,
O come to my Saviour, His grace is for all!

To save what was lost, from heaven he came;
Come, sinners, and trust In Jesus's name.
He offers you pardon; He bids you be free;
"If sin be your burden, O come unto me!"

O let me commend My Saviour to you,
The publican's friend And Advocate too,
For you he is pleading His merits and death,
With God interceding for sinners beneath.

Then let us submit His grace to receive,
Fall down at his feet And gladly believe:
We all are forgiven For Jesus's sake:
Our title to heaven His merits we take.

poem by John Wesley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hymn IV: Ho! Everyone That Thirsts, Draw Nigh

Ho! every one that thirsts, draw nigh!
('Tis God invites the fallen race)
Mercy and free salvation buy;
Buy wine, and milk, and gospel grace.

Come to the living waters, come!
Sinners, obey your Maker's call;
Return, ye weary wanderers, home,
And find my grace is free for all.

See from the Rock a fountain rise!
For you in healing streams it rolls;
Money ye need not bring, nor price,
Ye labouring, burdened, sin-sick souls.

Nothing ye in exchange shall give,
Leave all you have and are behind,
Frankly the gift of God receive,
Pardon and peace in Jesus find.

Why seek ye that which is not bread,
Nor can your hungry souls sustain?
On ashes, husks, and air ye feed;
Ye spend your little all in vain.

In search of empty joys below,
Ye toil with unavailing strife;
Whither, ah! whither would ye go?
I have the words of endless life.

Hearken to me with earnest care,
And freely eat substantial food,
The sweetness of my mercy share,
And taste that I alone am good.

I bid you all my goodness prove,
My promises for all are free,
Come, taste the manna of my love,
And let your souls delight in me.

Your willing ear and heart incline,
My words believingly receive;
Quickened your souls by faith divine
An everlasting life shall live.

poem by John Wesley
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Ho! Everyone That Thirsts, Draw Nigh