Bow the knee

"There are moments on our journey following the Lord

Where God illumines ev’ry step we take.

There are times when circumstances make perfect sense to us,

As we try to understand each move He makes.

When the path grows dim and our questions have no answers, turn to Him.

Bow the knee;

Trust the heart of your Father when the answer goes beyond what you can see.

Bow the knee;

Lift your eyes toward heaven and believe the One who holds eternity.

And when you don’t understand the purpose of His plan,

In the presence of the King, bow the knee.

There are days when clouds surround us, and the rain begins to fall,

The cold and lonely winds won’t cease to blow.

And there seems to be no reason for the suffering we feel;

We are tempted to believe God does not know.

When the storms arise, don’t forget we live by faith and not by sight.

Bow the knee;

Trust the heart of your Father when the answer goes beyond what you can see.

Bow the knee;

Lift your eyes toward heaven and believe the One who holds eternity.

And when you don’t understand the purpose of His plan,

In the presence of the King, bow the knee."

https://youtu.be/76VCLs24Z7Q?si=Z_E02jIzaydgfpGB

I have been listening to this beautiful song on repeat.

I hope it blesses you too! 

Poem by Annie Johnson Flint

 The Grace of God

"My grace," 'tis the God of all grace who hath spoken,
Whose word in the heavens forever is set;
Whose covenant promise hath never been broken;
Who never can fail or forget;
Who knoweth my needs and who seeth my sorrows,
However so many and great they may be;
Who heareth my prayers for the days and the morrows;
His grace is sufficient for me.

"My grace;" all His blessings this work is unfolding,
His love and His power in harmony blend;
'Tis grace that hath saved me, and grace that is holding,
And grace that will keep to the end;
'Tis grace that hath written redemption's glad story,
And grace all the song of the ransomed shall be;
'Tis grace that transforms me from glory to glory;
That grace is sufficient for me.

"My grace is," not "was," and not "will be;" 'tis flowing
Each hour and each moment my need to supply,
The deeper I dip, still the deeper 'tis growing,
No drought can diminish or dry;
My heart from the future no trouble shall borrow;
Eternal this present provision shall be,
Assured for today and as sure for tomorrow,
Such grace is sufficient for me.

"My grace is sufficient." Oh, help without measure!
An ocean of riches no plummet can sound,
A storehouse unfailing of infinite treasure,
A gift without limit or bound;
Exceeding abundant for all His creation,
Enough for the thorn that is buffeting me,
The fulness of God for earth's brief tribulation -
"My grace is sufficient for thee."

"Sufficient for thee," for my utmost salvation,
As though ne'er another had owed Him a debt;
For my special grief and my special temptation,
My cares and my sins that beset;
He giveth more grace for my humble endeavour;
I am praising Him now, I shall praise Him forever;
His grace is sufficient for me.

I hope you also find this of encouragement. 

The Lamb of God Who was slain for me.

 If you'd like to listen to the most recent original Christian song I uploaded to YouTube, here's the link.

 https://youtu.be/UrhGNRarqg8

Grandad's poems

 I was looking through Grandad's poems yesterday and wanted to share these 2 excerpts. Thank You Heavenly Father for a goodly heritage. 

"Conflict" A poem by Anna Shipton

"Lord! my soul is burdened By a weight of care,

And my foot is taken in the fowler's snare;

​Darkness gathers o'er me, I shall fall or flee:

Helper of the helpless, Rise and succor me!

Dangers seem to threaten, Tempters' wiles assail;

In Thy light I see them, Yet I weakly quail.

Strange unholy terrors In my bosom rise;

"What distrustful language— Heavy groans and sighs!

Thoughts of sin's defilement Born of faithless mood,

Hosts of unclean devils, guests of hell's dark brood,

Leave me lame and mourning, Blind to seek and trace

All the glorious beauty Of Immanuel's face.

Look, oh, look upon me! See my wounds! and hear

In my soul's veiled chambers, what dishonoring fear!

Withered arms for service, And a palsied frame

That hath scarce a heart-throb At Thy precious name.

Touch me, cleanse me, heal me! Thou didst give me life;

Speak the word, and save me From this deadly strife.

Thine is full salvation, And the gift is free:

Helper of the helpless, Rise and succor me!

Hast Thou cast me from Thee? Well Thou mayst. Ah, no!

Hold me fast, sweet Jesus! Whither should I go?

Should I seek to hide me In some desert spot,

Earth no cavern holdeth Where my God is not.

Could I rise to heaven, Thus by fears oppressed,

There art Thou! Descending To the grave's dark breast,

​Even there Thou reignest; And the shades of night

Open lie as noon-day, To Thy piercing sight!

Wherefore am I thus, Lord? I, who fain would show

To the thirsty pilgrim Where the waters flow;

Where the milk to nourish, Where the wine of home,

Are so freely offered Unto all that come.

Father! may I call Thee Abba—Father—mine?

Dost Thou look upon me, And still own me Thine?

Ah! Thy Spirit shows me Christ! my Priest and King,

Sinless, Stainless, Perfect, Is my Offering.

Look on Thine Anointed; Let my tongue be mute,

While we gaze together On my Substitute.

​Thou art full well pleased With Thy spotless Lamb;

And Thy Spirit tells me What, O God, I am!

Lost, abhorred, and loathsome, Leprous and unclean;

Yet, enrobed in Jesus, I am spotless seen.

Oh, the weight of glory It is mine to share!

Even now He calls me "Altogether fair."

Lo, I see Thee, Jesus, Ransom of my soul!

Hast Thou not redeemed me? Let the thunders roll.

Can the law convict me? Thou hast set me free!

Back, thou wily Tempter, Jesus died for me.

Bend, oh, bend my will, Lord! This—my only aim;

For in light or darkness Thou art still the same.

​Give me, or withhold then, What Thou seest best;

Not upon Thy gifts, Lord— On Thyself I rest.

Did He say, "To-morrow I will hear thee"? Nay!

Full and free the fountain Floweth every day.

Holy Dove, oft grieved, Ere my tears were dried,

To my listening spirit Thy still voice replied.

"Child, My child! be patient: I thy sins have borne;

I have marked the conflict, And the scoffer's scorn;

I have seen the sorrows Of thy broken heart,

And in thy affliction Borne a brother's part.

"Wouldst thou fear the darkness, Didst thou hate the light?

"Would thy sin displease thee, Were thy sin delight?

​Evil would be welcome, Wert thou of the earth:

Child, look up to heaven, Whence thou hadst thy birth.

"Put thy heel on Satan, Draw the Spirit's sword,

Prove thy holy breast-plate, Take Me at My word.

Am I not thy Fortress? Wherefore fall or fly;

Grasp thy palm, rejoicing In My victory.

"'Tis the lowliest conquers; 'Tis by might of love

That the weakest soldier Doth the bravest prove.

Rest thee, weary tremble! Was the strife unsent?

Nay! thy King was with thee: Not a bow was bent,

"But thy Lord who loves thee Guided every dart;

See! they only sent thee nearer to my heart.

​At thine hands upraised Half thy foes withdrew;

Forward! I have conquered, Thou shalt conquer too.

"Child! in Me abiding, Nought thy foot shall move;

Fear not! I will help thee, Mine is changeless love.

Take My yoke upon thee, Learn the way from Me;

I am meek and lowly, Meek and lowly be.

"Take My yoke—I bore it, Lean upon My breast;

I have fought thy battle, Share with me My rest.

Soon the plains of glory Sinless thou shalt tread;

My right hand upholds thee, Rise—be undismayed.

"Trust Me—only trust Me! Wherefore shouldst thou quail?

Can a weapon prosper, Shall a foe prevail,

​'Gainst the Lord's Anointed? He hath set their bounds;

While thy faith, though feeble, Loving-kindness crowns."

I don't know about you, but I thought it well worth reading. 

Hold me up

 https://youtu.be/Gr0vwVssiog?si=T0vqF97ZnZoaosdx

Another encouraging excerpt from the writings of James Smith.