Not what my hands have done can save my guilty soul;
Not what my toiling flesh has borne can make my spirit whole.
Not what I feel or do can give me peace with God;
Not all my prayers and sighs and tears can bear my awful load.
Your voice alone, O Lord, can speak to me of grace;
Your power alone, O Son of God, can all my sin erase.
No other work but Yours, no other blood will do;
No strength but that which is divine can bear me safely through.
Thy work alone, O Christ, can ease this weight of sin;
Thy blood alone, O Lamb of God, can give me peace within.
Thy love to me, O God, not mine, O Lord, to Thee,
Can rid me of this dark unrest, and set my spirit free.
I bless the Christ of God; I rest on love divine;
And with unfaltering lip and heart I call this Saviour mine.
His cross dispels each doubt; I bury in His tomb
Each thought of unbelief and fear, each lingering shade of gloom.
I praise the God of grace; I trust His truth and might;
He calls me His, I call Him mine, My God, my joy and light.
‘Tis He who saveth me, and freely pardon gives;
I love because He loveth me, I live because He lives.
Tag: hymn
Potentate of Time
It’s early Wednesday morning – the middle of a mad, mad week…and I thought I would just briefly share one of my favorite songs of all time- one which we sung part of on Sunday evening at Gilc. Simply glorious.
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 o’er 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 pierced 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.
Hope
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 labors of my hands
can fulfill thy law’s commands;
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.
Be Thou my vision, O LORD of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
Be Thou my Wisdom, Thou my true Word.
I ever with Thee, Thou with me, LORD;
Thou my great Father, I thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.
Be Thou my battle-shield, sword for the fight.
Be Thou my dignity, Thou my delight.
Thou my soul’s shelter, Thou my high tower.
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.
Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
Thou mine inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of heaven, my Treasure Thou art.
High King of heaven, my victory won,
May I reach heaven’s joys, O bright heav’ns Son!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my vision, O ruler of all.
Amen and Amen and Amen!!!!!!
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way
When sorrows, like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Thou Satan should buffet, though trials should come
Let this blest assurance control
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more
Praise the LORD, praise the LORD, O my soul!
And LORD, haste the day when my faith shall be sight
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll
The trump shall resound, and the LORD shall descend
Even so, it is well with my soul.
Something Weird 