My Heart is Resting, O my God

“The Lord is my portion, saith my soul;
therefore will I hope in Him.”
Lamentations 3:24

My heart is resting, O my God—
I will give thanks and sing;
My heart is at the secret source
Of every precious thing.
Now the frail vessel Thou hast made
No hand but Thine shall fill—
For the waters of the Earth have failed,
And I am thirsty still.

I thirst for springs of heavenly life,
And here all day they rise—
I seek the treasure of Thy love,
And close at hand it lies.
And a new song is in my mouth
To long loved music set—
Glory to Thee for all the grace
I have not tasted yet.

Glory to Thee for strength withheld,
For want and weakness known—
And the fear that sends me to Thy breast
For what is most my own.
I have a heritage of joy
That yet I must not see;
But the hand that bled to make it mine
Is keeping it for me.

There is a certainty of love
That sets my heart at rest—
A calm assurance for today
That to be poor is best—
A prayer reposing on His truth
Who hath made all things mine,
That draws my captive will to Him,
And makes it one with Thine.

(more…)

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Published in: on January 13, 2011 at 2:42 am  Leave a Comment  
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In Heavenly Love Abiding

In heavenly love abiding, no change my heart shall fear.
And safe in such confiding, for nothing changes here.
The storm may roar without me, my heart may low be laid,
But God is round about me, and can I be dismayed?

Wherever He may guide me, no want shall turn me back.
My Shepherd is beside me, and nothing can I lack.
His wisdom ever waking, His sight is never dim.
He knows the way He’s taking, and I will walk with Him.

Green pastures are before me, which yet I have not seen.
Bright skies will soon be over me, where darkest clouds have been.
My hope I cannot measure, my path to life is free.
My Savior has my treasure, and He will walk with me.

Anna Laetitia Waring (1820-1910)

Published in: on January 1, 2010 at 2:46 am  Comments (1)  

God Moves in a Mysterious Way

by William Cowper, 1774

God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

 

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

 

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

 

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

 

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

 

 

 

 

William Cowper also co-wrote
Amazing Grace with John Newton.

 

 

Cyber Hymnal – God Moves in a Mysterious Way

Published in: on July 9, 2007 at 1:59 am  Comments (1)  

What a Friend we have in Jesus

by Joseph M. Scriven, 1855

What a Friend we have in Jesus,
all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer!

O what peace we often forfeit,
O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.

Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged;
take it to the Lord in prayer.

Can we find a friend so faithful who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness;
take it to the Lord in prayer.

Are we weak and heavy laden,
cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge, take it to the Lord in prayer.

Do your friends despise, forsake you?
Take it to the Lord in prayer!
In His arms He’ll take and shield you;
you will find a solace there.

Blessed Savior, Thou hast promised
Thou wilt all our burdens bear
May we ever, Lord, be bringing all to Thee in earnest prayer.

Soon in glory bright unclouded there will be
no need for prayer
Rapture, praise and endless worship will be
our sweet portion there.

 

~ * ~

About the hymn: Joseph Scriven (1918-1886) of Seapatrick Ireland was educated at Trinity College. The night before he was to marry, his fiance drowned. In 1846 he moved to Ontario, Canada where he was a teacher and a tutor. He was engaged once more to an Eliza Roche who also died shortly before their wedding date. He dedicated the remainder of his life to helping the aged. In Jesus he found “a friend so faithful who will all our sorrows share”. His source of comfort inspired this hymn which he wrote for his mother, who was across the sea from him in Ire­land. It was orig­in­al­ly pub­lished anon­y­mous­ly. It was not until 30 years later that Scriv­en re­ceiveed full cred­it for the hymn. Charles C. Converse wrote the music in 1868. During World War I the tune was borrowed to go along with the song “When the Bloody War is Over”.

Published in: on March 17, 2007 at 5:53 pm  Leave a Comment  

The Blessing Bestowed

By Anna L. Waring

 

For thus saith the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel; In returning and rest shall ye be saved; in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength…

Isaiah 30:15

 

~ * ~
With a heart full of anxious request,
Which my Father in heaven bestowed,
I wandered, alone and distressed,
In search of a quiet abode;
Astray and distracted I cried,
“Lord, where would Thou have me to be?”
And the voice of the Lamb that had died
Said, “Come, My beloved, to Me.”

I went—for He mightily wins
Weary souls to His peaceful retreat—
And He gave me forgiveness of sins,
And songs that I love to repeat;
And oft as my enemies came,
My views of His glory to dim,
He taught me to trust in His name—
To triumph by leaning on Him.

 

Made pure by the blood that He shed,
My heart in His presence was free;
I was hungry and thirsty—He fed;
I was sick, and He comforted me;
He gave me the blessing complete—
The hope that is with me today—
And a quiet abode at His feet
That shall not be taken away.

 

 

 

 

 

pub.1863

 

 

 

Published in: on January 24, 2007 at 4:57 pm  Leave a Comment  

IN HEAVENLY LOVE ABIDING

~ * ~

In heavenly love abiding,
no change my heart shall fear.
And safe in such confiding,
for nothing changes here.

The storm may roar without me,
my heart may low be laid,
But God is round about me,
and can I be dismayed?

Wherever He may guide me,
no want shall turn me back.
My Shepherd is beside me,
and nothing can I lack.

 

His wisdom ever waking,
His sight is never dim.
He knows the way He’s taking,
and I will walk with Him.

 

Green pastures are before me,
which yet I have not seen.
Bright skies will soon be over me,
where darkest clouds have been.

 

My hope I cannot measure,
my path to life is free.
My Savior has my treasure,
and He will walk with me.

 

From: Hymns and Med­i­ta­tions, 1850.
Music: “Angel’s Story,” Ar­thur H. Mann, 1881

Published in: on January 24, 2007 at 4:27 pm  Comments (1)  

MY SAVIOR, ON THE WORD OF TRUTH

By An­na L. War­ing

“I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait,
and in His Word do I hope.” Psalm 130:5

~ * ~

My Savior, on the word of truth
In earnest hope I live;
I ask for all the precious things
Thy boundless love can give.
I look for many a lesser light
About my path to shine;
But chiefly long to walk with Thee,
And only trust in Thine.
In holy expectation held,
Thy strength my heart shall stay,
For Thy right hand will never let
My trust be cast away.
Yea, Thou hast kept me near Thy feet,
In many a deadly strife,
By the stronghold of hope in Thee,
The hope of endless life.
Thou knowest that I am not blest
As Thou wouldst have me be,
Till all the peace and joy of faith
Possess my soul in Thee
And still I seek ’mid many fears,
With yearnings unexpressed,
The comforts of Thy strengthening love,
Thy soothing, settling rest.
It is not as Thou wilt with me,
Till, humbled in the dust;
I know no place in all my heart
Wherein to put my trust.
Until I find, O Lord, in Thee,
The Lowly and the Meek,
That fullness which Thy own redeemed
Go nowhere else to seek.
Then, O my Savior, on my soul,
Cast down, but not dismayed,
Still be Thy chastening, healing hand
In tender, mercy laid.
And while I wait for all Thy joys,
My yearning heart to fill,
Teach me to walk and work with Thee,
And at Thy feet sit still.

 

From: Hymns and Med­i­ta­tions, 1850.

Music: “Amesbury,” Uz­zi­ah C. Bur­nap, 18

Published in: on January 24, 2007 at 4:25 pm  Leave a Comment  

FATHER, I KNOW THAT ALL MY LIFE

By An­na L. War­ing

 

~ * ~

Father, I know that all my life
Is portioned out for me,
And the changes that are sure to come
I do not fear to see;
But I ask Thee for a present mind
Intent on pleasing Thee.
I ask Thee for a thoughtful love,
Through constant watching wise,
To meet the glad with joyful smiles,
And to wipe the weeping eyes;
And a heart at leisure from itself,
To soothe and sympathize.
I would not have the restless will
That hurries to and fro,
Seeking for some great thing to do
Or secret thing to know;
I would be treated as a child,
And guided where I go.
Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe’er estate,
I have a fellowship with hearts
To keep and cultivate;
And a work of lowly love to do
For the Lord on Whom I wait.
So I ask Thee for daily strength,
To none that ask denied,
And a mind to blend with outward life
While keeping at Thy side;
Content to fill a little space,
If Thou be glorified.
And if some things I do not ask
In my cup of blessing be,
I would have my spirit filled the more
With grateful love to Thee,
More careful, not to serve Thee much,
But to please Thee perfectly.
There are briers besetting every path
That call for patient care;
There is a cross in every lot,
And an earnest need for prayer;
But a lowly heart that leans on Thee
Is happy anywhere.
In a service which Thy will appoints
There are no bonds for me;
For my inmost heart is taught “the truth”
That makes Thy children “free.”
And a life of self renouncing love
Is a life of liberty.

 

 


From: Hymns and Meditations, 1850.
Music: “Morwellham,” Charles Steg­gall (1826-1905)

Published in: on January 24, 2007 at 4:19 pm  Comments (1)  

MY HEART IS RESTING, O MY GOD

By Anna L. War­ing

“The Lord is my portion, saith my soul;
therefore will I hope in Him.”
Lamentations 3:24

~ * ~

My heart is resting, O my God—
I will give thanks and sing;
My heart is at the secret source
Of every precious thing.
Now the frail vessel Thou hast made
No hand but Thine shall fill—
For the waters of the Earth have failed,
And I am thirsty still.
I thirst for springs of heavenly life,
And here all day they rise—
I seek the treasure of Thy love,
And close at hand it lies.
And a new song is in my mouth
To long loved music set—
Glory to Thee for all the grace
I have not tasted yet.
Glory to Thee for strength withheld,
For want and weakness known—
And the fear that sends me to Thy breast
For what is most my own.
I have a heritage of joy
That yet I must not see;
But the hand that bled to make it mine
Is keeping it for me.
There is a certainty of love
That sets my heart at rest—
A calm assurance for today
That to be poor is best—
A prayer reposing on His truth
Who hath made all things mine,
That draws my captive will to Him,
And makes it one with Thine.
I will give thanks for suffering now,
For want and toil and loss—
For the death that sin makes hard and slow,
Upon my Savior’s cross—
Thanks for the little spring of love
That gives me strength to say,
If they will leave me part in Him,
Let all things pass away.
Sometimes I long for promised bliss,
But it will not come too late—
And the songs of patient spirits rise
From the place wherein I wait;
While in the faith that makes no haste
My soul has time to see
A kneeling host of Thy redeemed,
In fellowship with me.
There is a multitude around
Responsive to my prayer;
I hear the voice of my desire
Resounding everywhere.
But the earnest of eternal joy,
In every prayer I trace;
I see the glory of the Lord:
On every chastened face.
How oft, in still communion known,
Those spirits have been sent
To share the travail of my soul,
Or show me what it meant!
And I long to do some work of love
No spoiling hand could touch,
For the poor and suffering of Thy flock
Who comfort me so much.
But the yearning thought is mingled now
With the thankful song I sing;
For Thy people know the secret source
Of every precious thing.
The heart that ministers for Thee
In Thy own work will rest;
And the subject spirit of a child
Can serve Thy children best.
Mine be the reverent, listening love,
That waits all day on Thee,
With the service of a watchful heart
Which no one else can see—
The faith that, in a hidden way
No other eye may know,
Finds all its daily work prepared,
And loves to have it so.
My heart is resting, O my God,
My heart is in Thy care—
I hear the voice of joy and health
Resounding everywhere.
“Thou art my portion,” saith my soul,
Ten thousand voices say,
And the music of their glad Amen,
Will never die away.

 

 

Hymns and Med­i­ta­tions, 4th edi­tion, 1854
Music by H. Wal­ford Da­vies,“Pen­ta­tone,”

Published in: on January 24, 2007 at 4:13 pm  Leave a Comment