Rock of Ages ~ Hymn

Rock of Ages

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure;
Save from wrath and make me pure.

Not the labor of my hands
Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.

Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to the cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Savior, or I die.

While I draw this fleeting breath,
When mine eyes shall close in death,
When I soar to worlds unknown,
See Thee on Thy judgment throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.

Words by: Augustus M. Toplady, 1776

ht: Cyberhymnal

Meeting God in Quiet Places ~ F. LaGard Smith

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Wherever we are, God is always close. But as Jesus himself demonstrated, there is something about quiet times and quiet places that helps us to get closer to God. That special solitude provides a time of rest and renewal from a secular world that is busily ignoring God. It is a time of remembering who we are and why we are.

In the Cotswolds, I experience daily the words of that great hymn written by I. B. Sergei:

My God and I go through the fields together.
We walk and talk, as good friends should and do.
We clasp our hands, our voices ring with laughter.
My God and I walk through the meadow’s hue.

He tells me of the years that went before me,
When heavenly plans were made for me to be.
When all was but a dream of dim conception,
To come to life, earth’s verdant glory see.

For those who walk hand in hand with Jesus, every day is a holiday – a holy day before God. Some of us are specially blessed to have a life more conducive to the peace and quiet of holy days before God. But as someone who finds himself thrust back each year into the harsh reality of big-city madness, I know that the greater challenge is to find God in the midst of a metropolis. To see his hand in the inner city and among the urban sprawl; to find time for him in an already-overbooked schedule; to find a quiet place amid a constant bedlam of noise.

If we don’t take the time to remember, we’re in danger of forgetting his blessings. Therefore, take a few moments every day, if possible, or perhaps plan ahead to spend an afternoon walking in prayer with him. Whenever you feel your hand slipping from his, take some extra time to remember all that he has meant to you. And why not write down some of his special blessings throughout the year?”

This is the village of Buckland in the Cotswolds. I was so excited to stumble upon it with Dear and Katie in 2004 after reading this devotional by F. LaGard Smith. The book is “Dedicated to the people of Buckland, who have opened their hearts and homes to make me feel a part of the village.” We strolled around Buckland and it made me want to re-read the book. This book was one of those “treasures” that I happened upon in my thrift store shopping. I found it at the Senior thrift shop on Whidbey Island in the little village of Langley, Washington. If you ever visit Washington take a ferry to Whidbey Island and enjoy the many quaint towns and beautiful scenery this Island affords. Whidbey Island is one of those places on earth that you can feel closer to the Lord just by being there. May you walk hand in hand with Jesus  wherever you are today, in the hustle and bustle, or in a serene and quiet place.

The top photo is from a walk I took with our daughter in law and the house you see down the road belongs to our son and her.

Meeting God In Quiet Places copyright 1992 by F. LaGard Smith, Published by harvest House Publishers, Eugene, Oregon, 97402

How Good it is To Thank the Lord ~ Hymn

 How Good It Is to Thank The Lord

How good it is to thank the Lord,
And praise to Thee, Most High, accord,
To show Thy love with morning light,
And tell Thy faithfulness each night;
Yea, good it is Thy praise to sing,
And all our sweetest music bring.

O Lord, with joy my heart expands,
Before the wonders of Thy hands;
Great works, Jehovah, Thou hast wrought,
Exceeding deep Thine every thought;
A foolish man knows not their worth,
Nor he whose mind is of the earth.

When as the grass the wicked grow,
When sinners flourish here below,
Then is there endless ruin nigh,
But Thou, O Lord, art throned on high;
Thy foes shall fall before Thy might,
The wicked shall be put to flight.

Thou, Lord, hast high exalted me
With royal strength and dignity;
With Thine anointing I am blest,
Thy grace and favor on me rest;
I thus exult o’er all my foes,
O’er all that would my cause oppose.

The righteous man shall flourish well,
And in the house of God shall dwell;
He shall be like a goodly tree,
And all his life shall fruitful be;
For righteous is the Lord and just,
He is my Rock, in Him I trust.

Words: The Psalter 1912, Music: St. Petersburg ~ Dimitri S. Bortniansky

Awake, My Soul, and With the Sun ~ Hymn

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Thomas Ken ~ (1637-1711)

Words: Thom­as Ken, Man­u­al of Pray­ers for the Use of the Schol­ars of Win­ches­ter Col­lege, 1674.

Ken wrote this hymn at a time when the es­tab­lished church be­lieved on­ly Script­ure should be sung as hymns—with an em­pha­sis on the Psalms. Some con­sid­ered it sin­ful and blas­phe­mous to write new lyr­ics for church mu­sic, akin to ad­ding to the Script­ures. In that at­mo­sphere, Ken wrote this and sev­er­al other hymns for the boys at Win­chest­er Col­lege, with strict in­struct­ions that they use them on­ly in their rooms, for pri­vate de­vo­tions. Iron­ic­al­ly, the last stan­za has come into wide­spread use as the Dox­ol­o­gy, per­haps the most fr­equent­ly used piece of mu­sic in pub­lic wor­ship. At Ken’s request, the hymn was sung at his fun­er­al, fit­tingly held at sun­rise.

Awake, My Soul, and With the Sun

Awake, my soul, and with the sun
Thy daily stage of duty run;
Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise,
To pay thy morning sacrifice.

Thy precious time misspent, redeem,
Each present day thy last esteem,
Improve thy talent with due care;
For the great day thyself prepare.

By influence of the Light divine
Let thy own light to others shine.
Reflect all Heaven’s propitious ways
In ardent love, and cheerful praise.

In conversation be sincere;
Keep conscience as the noontide clear;
Think how all seeing God thy ways
And all thy secret thoughts surveys.

Wake, and lift up thyself, my heart,
And with the angels bear thy part,
Who all night long unwearied sing
High praise to the eternal King.

All praise to Thee, Who safe has kept
And hast refreshed me while I slept
Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake
I may of endless light partake.

Heav’n is, dear Lord, where’er Thou art,
O never then from me depart;
For to my soul ’tis hell to be
But for one moment void of Thee.

Lord, I my vows to Thee renew;
Disperse my sins as morning dew.
Guard my first springs of thought and will,
And with Thyself my spirit fill.

Direct, control, suggest, this day,
All I design, or do, or say,
That all my powers, with all their might,
In Thy sole glory may unite.

I would not wake nor rise again
And Heaven itself I would disdain,
Wert Thou not there to be enjoyed,
And I in hymns to be employed.

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

So…I was very surprised to find out that there is so much more to the Doxology and that it was taken from a longer hymn called Awake My Soul and With the Sun. I’m glad to know the whole story behind this great piece probably every one of us has sung time and time again!

Lo, the Earth is Risen Again ~ Hymn

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Lo, the Earth is Risen Again

Lo, the earth is risen again
From the winter’s bond and pain!
Bring we leaf and flower and spray
To adorn our holiday!

Once again the word comes true,
Lo, He maketh all things new!
Now the dark, cold days are o’er,
Light and gladness are before.

How our hearts leap with the spring!
How our spirits soar and sing!
Light is victor over gloom,
Life triumphant o’er the tomb.

Change, then, mourning into praise,
And, for dirges, anthems raise!
All our fears and griefs shall be
Lost in immortality.

Words: Samuel Longfellow, 1876.

In Christ Alone

Happy Easter everyone!

Christ is Risen…He is Risen Indeed!

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In Christ Alone

In Christ alone my hope is found,
He is my light, my strength, my song;
This Cornerstone, this solid Ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My Comforter, my All in All,
Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone! – who took on flesh,
Fullness of God in helpless babe.
This gift of love and righteousness,
Scorned by the ones He came to save:
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied –
For every sin on Him was laid;
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay,
Light of the world by darkness slain:
Then bursting forth in glorious day
Up from the grave He rose again!
And as He stands in victory
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me,
For I am His and He is mine –
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death,
This is the power of Christ in me;
From life’s first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand:
Till He returns or calls me home,
Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.

Stuart Townend & Keith Getty Copyright © 2001 Thankyou Music (Adm. by CapitolCMGPublishing.com excl. UK & Europe, adm. by Integrity Music, part of the David C Cook family, songs@integritymusic.com)

Crown Him With Many Crowns ~ Hymn

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Crown Him With Many Crowns

Crown Him with many crowns, the Lamb upon His throne.
Hark! How the heavenly anthem drowns all music but its own.
Awake, my soul, and sing of Him who died for thee,
And hail Him as thy matchless King through all eternity.

Crown Him the virgin’s Son, the God incarnate born,
Whose arm those crimson trophies won which now His brow adorn;
Fruit of the mystic rose, as of that rose the stem;
The root whence mercy ever flows, the Babe of Bethlehem.

Crown Him the Son of God, before the worlds began,
And ye who tread where He hath trod, crown Him the Son of Man;
Who every grief hath known that wrings the human breast,
And takes and bears them for His own, that all in Him may rest.

Crown Him the Lord of life, who triumphed over the grave,
And rose victorious in the strife for those He came to save.
His glories now we sing, who died, and rose on high,
Who died eternal life to bring, and lives that death may die.

Crown Him the Lord of peace, whose power a scepter sways
From pole to pole, that wars may cease, and all be prayer and praise.
His reign shall know no end, and round His piercèd feet
Fair flowers of paradise extend their fragrance ever sweet.

Crown Him the Lord of love, behold His hands and side,
Those wounds, yet visible above, in beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends his burning eye at mysteries so bright.

Crown Him the Lord of Heaven, enthroned in worlds above,
Crown Him the King to Whom is given the wondrous name of Love.
Crown Him with many crowns, as thrones before Him fall;
Crown Him, ye kings, with many crowns, for He is King of all.

Crown Him the Lord of lords, who over all doth reign,
Who once on earth, the incarnate Word, for ransomed sinners slain,
Now lives in realms of light, where saints with angels sing
Their songs before Him day and night, their God, Redeemer, King.

Crown Him the Lord of years, the Potentate of time,
Creator of the rolling spheres, ineffably sublime.
All hail, Redeemer, hail! For Thou has died for me;
Thy praise and glory shall not fail throughout eternity.

Words: Verses 1, 4, 5, 6 & 9: Matthew Bridges, 1852. Verses 2, 3: Godfrey Thring, 1874.

O Lord, Look Down from Heaven

The Thames 106O Lord, Look Down from Heaven

O Lord, look down from Heaven, behold
And let Thy pity waken:
How few are we within Thy fold,
Thy saints by men forsaken!
True faith seems quenched on every hand,
Men suffer not Thy Word to stand;
Dark times have us o’ertaken.

With fraud which they themselves invent
Thy truth they have confounded;
Their hearts are not with one consent
On Thy pure doctrine grounded.
While they parade with outward show,
They lead the people to and fro,
In error’s maze astounded.

May God root out all heresy
And of false teachers rid us
Who proudly say: Now, where is he
That shall our speech forbid us?
By right or might we shall prevail;
What we determine cannot fail;
We own no lord and master.

Therefore saith God, I must arise,
The poor My help are needing;
To Me ascend My people’s cries,
And I have heard their pleading.
For them My saving Word shall fight
And fearlessly and sharply smite,
The poor with might defending.

As silver tried by fire is pure
From all adulteration,
So through God’s Word shall men endure
Each trial and temptation.
Its light beams brighter through the cross,
And, purified from human dross,
It shines through every nation.

Thy truth defend, O God, and stay
This evil generation;
And from the error of their way
Keep Thine own congregation.
The wicked everywhere abound
And would Thy little flock confound;
But Thou art our salvation.

Words: Martin Luther, 1524.

O God, Whose Smile Is in the Sky ~ Hymn

O God, Whose Smile Is in the Sky

O God, whose smile is in the sky,
Whose path is in the sea,
Once more from earth’s tumultuous strife
We gladly turn to Thee.

Now all the myriad sounds of earth
In solemn stillness die;
While wind and wave unite to chant
Their anthem to the sky.

We come as those with toil far spent
Who crave Thy rest and peace,
And from the care and fret of life
Would find in Thee release.

O Father, soothe all troubled thought,
Dispel all idle fear,
Purge Thou each heart of secret sin,
And banish ev’ry care.

Until, as shine upon the sea
The silent stars above,
There shines upon our trusting souls
The light of Thine own love.

Words: John H. Holmes, 1907.

I’m linking up to Sunlit Sunday at My Little Home and Garden

Rejoice, the Lord is King! ~ Hymn

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Rejoice, the Lord is King

Rejoice, the Lord is King! Your Lord and King adore;
Mortals give thanks and sing, and triumph evermore;
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!

Jesus, the Savior, reigns, the God of truth and love;
When He had purged our stains He took His seat above;
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!

His kingdom cannot fail, He rules o’er earth and Heav’n,
The keys of death and hell are to our Jesus giv’n;
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!

He sits at God’s right hand till all His foes submit,
And bow to His command, and fall beneath His feet:
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!

He all His foes shall quell, shall all our sins destroy,
And every bosom swell with pure seraphic joy;
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice,
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!

Rejoice in glorious hope! Jesus the Judge shall come,
And take His servants up to their eternal home.
We soon shall hear th’archangel’s voice;
The trump of God shall sound, rejoice!

Wesley