Song/Poem

My Shepherd!
Blessed thought!
By Thee I’m bought.
By Thee I’m sought and found;
Upon strong shoulders brought to heavenly ground.
My Shepherd!

My Shepherd!
Blessed hands!
That broke sin’s bands.
They brought Thy plans to birth
And rule and tend the ends of all the earth!
My Shepherd!

My Shepherd!
Blessed feet!
Thy voice most sweet!
My soul completely freed.
Then call my feet to follow where You lead,
My Shepherd!

My Shepherd!
Blessed head!
Once stained with red;
Once bowed to dread death’s wound.
Now risen from the dead; now glory crowned!
My Shepherd!

A meditation on Genesis 1, Psalm 22, Psalm 23, Psalm 145, Luke 15, and John 10.
Penned by Steve Lamb

Waiting on Him

Rachel E. Kundert

To Thee, O Lord we raise our eyes
With worries, fears, an anxious mind;
With troubled soul and tearful cries
Our anxious heart doth now implore,
“O Lord, What wait I for?”
(Psalm 39:7)

When He no answer doth supply,
Though nights of darkness sleepless be,
Though prayer and plea we raise on high,
Yet trembling still His Word we see:
“Wait,” says He, “wait on Me.”
(Psalm 27:14)

Our God dwells in eternity;
A thousand years to Him – a day.
The number of the stars knows He,
And thus we say, though daylight dim,
“Wait patiently for Him.”
(Is. 57:15, 2 Pet. 3:8, Psalm 37:7)

For God has promised good to all
Who wait for Him and seek His face.
With strength and love He hears our call.
His time is right, He’ll not be late.
On God alone we wait.
(Lam. 3:25, Psalm 62:5)

God need not tell wherefore and why,
E’en if we leave this life behind.
He’s good and faithful, hears each sigh.
We trust Him still with heart outpoured:
“Wait, I say, on the Lord.”
(Psalm 27:14)

The pebble that endures the storm,
Yields beauty not seen heretofore.
From ragged roughness – graceful form,
And from the depths comes joyous song.
Wait on the LORD: be strong.
(Psalm 27:14, Jos.1:7)

Our Great High Priest can sympathize,
For He went through the same, nay, more,
Despised, rejected, crucified.
We humbly bow before Him, awed.
My soul waits upon God.
(2 Cor. 12:9, Heb. 2:18 4:15, Psalm 62:1)

Gal 2:20; Gal. 6:14

The world that crucified my Lord, makes overtures to me,
And offers pleasures and reward, if I would faithless be.
But when in Jesus’ death I died, the world to me was crucified.

The world, that crowned my Lord with thornes, would crown me with success,
If I would walk as one who scorns, the crown of righteousness,
But I will never cast away, the crown I hope for “in that day.”

The world, that set my Lord at naught, would bid me make a name,
By selling what His life-blood bought, for wealth, and ease, and fame.
But I, of these desire no part; my name is written on His heart.

The world that pierced His hands and feet, and smote my Saviour’s side,
Would tempt me with some vain conceit, to pander to my pride:
But all the earth’s vanities are dross, to those who glory in the cross.

When I was young and careless and blessed with daily good,
He told me that he loved me, and I told him that he should!
Dissatisfied with daily gifts, I daily did implore,
If you really cared for me, you’d ought to give me more!
Then he loved me. Yes, he loved me! I can see it now.
In spite of my ungrateful heart, he loved me anyhow.
In spite of all, he loved me.

How rash was I and thoughtless, and filled with foolish pride!
I despised his kindness, all discretion cast aside,
So I gathered up his tender gifts – his limits I would leave –
I took my journey far away; so what if he should grieve!
Then he loved me. Yes, he loved me! I can see it now.
In spite of my so foolish choice he loved me anyhow.
In spite of all, he loved me.

I lived with sheer abandon, as one who had no shame.
I yielded to unchecked desires and played the devil’s game.
My plenty I soon wasted all, my fickle friends all fled.
My folly came to mock me then; I had not a crust of bread!
Then he loved me. Yes, he loved me! I can see it now.
In spite of how far down I came, he loved me anyhow!
In spite of all, he loved me.

I thought then of my father, and the good I’d had before.
I thought of all his servants, who had bread enough, and more.
And I thought of how I’d wandered, and I’d soiled my father’s name
And I longed to be restored to him in spite of all my shame.
Then he loved me. Yes, he loved me! I can see it now.
In spite of my depravity he loved me anyhow.
In spite of all, he loved me!

I arose and took my journey back toward father and toward home.
I will tell him, “I have sinned and I’m not fit to be your son.”
But before I came, he saw me, and as I came, he ran,
And he embraced and kissed me, and rejoiced, “My son is come!”
And he loved me! Yes, he loved me! I can see it now!
In spite of my unworthiness, he loved me anyhow!
In spite of all, he loved me!

Then I looked up to heaven, and I looked up to God,
And I looked up to see the One Who watched the way I’d trod…
And I looked up into the eyes that saw all I had done –
The One Who bore the blame for me, to welcome me back home
For He loves me! Yes, He loves me, I can see it now!
In spite of my rebellious ways, He loves me anyhow.
In spite of all, He loves me!

– Penned by Steven Lamb

Words by Will­iam H. Bur­leigh, in Ly­ra Sac­ra Amer­i­ca­na, 1868 (as found at hymntime.com)

Music by Fried­rich F. Flem­ming 

Listen to medley arrangement © Bethany Juedes

Still will we trust, though earth seem dark and dreary,
And the heart faint beneath His chastening rod;
Though rough and steep our pathway, worn and weary,
Still will we trust in God!

Our eyes see dimly till by faith anointed,
And our blind choosing brings us grief and pain;
Through Him alone who hath our way appointed,
We find our peace again.

Choose for us, God! Nor let our weak preferring
Cheat our poor souls of good Thou has designed;
Choose for us, God! Thy wisdom is unerring,
And we are fools and blind.

So from our sky the night shall furl her shadows,
And day pour gladness through his golden gates,
Our rough path lead to flower-enameled meadows,
Where joy our coming waits.

Let us press on, in patient self denial,
Accept the hardship, shrink not from the loss;
Our portion lies beyond the hour of trial,
Our crown beyond the cross.

This poem came to my remembrance for some reason today, and I realized I haven’t posted it yet.

Who shall tell our untold need,
Deeply felt, though scarcely known?
Who the hungering soul can feed,
Guard and guide, but God alone?
Blessed promise! while we see
Earthly friends must powerless be,
Earthly fountains quickly dry,
“God” shall all your need supply.

He hath said it! so we know
Nothing less can we receive.
Oh that thankful love may glow
While we restfully believe, –
Ask not how, but trust Him still;
Ask not when, but wait His will:
Simply on His word rely,
God “shall” all you need supply.

Through the whole of life’s long way,
Outward, inward need we trace;
Need arising day by day,
Patience, wisdom, strength, and grace.
Needing Jesus most of all,
Full of need, on Him we call;
Then how gracious His reply,
God shall “all” your need supply.

Great our need, but greater far
Is our Father’s loving power;
He upholds each mighty star,
He unfolds each tiny flower.
He who numbers every hair,
Earnest of His faithful care,
Gave His Son for us to die:
God shall all “your” need supply.

Yet we often vainly plead
For a fancied good denied,
What we deemed a pressing need
Still remaining unsupplied.
Yet from dangers all concealed,
Thus our wisest friend doth shield;
No good thing will He deny,
God shall all your “need” supply.

Can we count redemption’s treasure,
Scan the glory of God’s love?
Such shall be the boundless measure
Of His blessings from above.
All we ask or think, and more,
He will give in boundless store,
He can fill and satisfy,
God shall all your need “supply.”

One the channel, deep and broad,
From the Fountain of the Throne,
Christ the Saviour, Son of God,
Blessings flow through Him alone.
He, the Faithful and the True,
Brings us mercies ever new:
Till we reach His home on high,
“God shall all your need supply.”

(Phil. 4:19)
– THE MINISTRY OF SONG