Praise

Praise: An Instrument of War

Lord I praise thee,
thy glory so great and good.
Nothing I can see compares to thee,
Enthroned in thy realm above.

Father thou art worthy
Of all the power and praise
So willingly, gladly we give all to thee;
Thy anthem toward heaven we raise.

Spirit of Holiness near to us,
Thanks be for thy power and grace.
None like unto thee has been or will be,
None e’er shall take thy place.

We have never at all deserved
The victory for us thou hast won.
Except that thou hast made us for love
And redemption in thine Only Son.

Our weak and erring flesh, it wanes,
While within the depths of our souls
You form the image and likeness of Him
And this is our high and best goal.

Thou who watches for Isreal
And never slumber or sleep,
Keep thy eye on these sparrows
The apples of thine eye, keep.

When, for peace and for safety,
The unbelieving call aloud,
We need not fret or shrink from that Day
Thou leadest thy flock wholly out.

Our end is ever the better one
For thou hast prepared it for us.
What loss will the unbelieving receive
Who had never learned thee to trust.

O Great God and Savior,
Lord Jesus be thy Holy Name,
Draw more to the cross and by thy kind love
To the worshipping throng above.

Mankind thou made in thy image,
Thy likeness for e’er to become.
We were made for love and made to love
And were made by Love to be one.

Without the grace of salvation
The soul is forever lost.
That grace is the free gift from heaven
For which Jesus paid all the cost.


The story so plain and straight forward
The unlearned can easily say:
Now is the time, the acceptable time
For salvation today is the day.

my seasons

MY SEASONS Sept. 8, 2004


Fall draws near, that part of the year
he told me “the trees go to rest.”
As yellows and reds above my head
fall to the ground and are lying…

the dying I fear, is next in the year
when winter winds come sighing,
and clouds, often gray, and low all the day,
and few the birds be flying.

The cold and the freeze, Lord forbid us the sneeze,
can be bitter and trouble and woe.
My flesh is rare pleased as the nip in the breeze
tells of shoveling ……….shoveling snow.

Then spring makes its splash, with a shout and a dash
as glory and splendor do race,
bringing good cheer and a place in the year
to Thank our great Savior for grace.

The thaw has begun, sure.. thanks to the sun,
which was spoken by God and appeared;
and planting is made, and foundations are laid—
it’s my favorite time of the year.

Tis done all too soon, then in heat we do swoon
when summer does brightly affirm; that
for bread we must sweat, midst our sin and our debt,
and creation travails as we learn,

of God, who is love, and who guides from above
till we’re reaped like the crop in the field.
Our few days are spent, best in them repent
to our Rock, our strong tower and shield.

As fall again greets us, summer it meets
with the diurnal turn of the pole;
and crops taken in by the bushel and bin
bless the faithful, though hungry, dear souls.

All through the year God is so near
to the one who will fear Him as Lord.
As Father and Son, who with Spirit are One,
who is patient and kind and will not leave behind
the dear Soul who willingly comes,
and a trembling bows low,
to Him who does know
each one... and He calls us by name.

today's world

The Lamb's Poet
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