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God Will Take Care Of You

January 12th, 2009

Civilla recounts how this hymn was written: “I was con­fined to a sick bed in a Bi­ble school in Les­ter­shire, New York. My hus­band was spend­ing sev­er­al weeks at the school, mak­ing a song­book for the pres­i­dent of the school. “God Will Take Care of You” was writ­ten one Sun­day af­ter­noon while my hus­band went to a preach­ing ap­point­ment. When he re­turned I gave the words to him. He im­me­di­ate­ly sat down to his lit­tle Bil­horn or­gan and wrote the music. That even­ing he and two of the teach­ers sang the com­plet­ed song. It was then print­ed in the song­book he was com­pil­ing for the school.”

This is a wonderful, lively hymn that assures us of God eternal care for us. Interestingly, it is side by side with God Leads Us Along in the Revival Hymns and Choruses book. (353 and 354). I hope you like this rendition.

Lyrics: Civilla D. Martin
Music: W. Stillman Martin

Be not dismayed whate’er betide, God will take care of you
Beneath His wings of love abide, God will take care of you

God will take care of you, Thru ev’ry day, O’er all the way
He will take care of you, God will take care of you

Thru days of toil when heart doth fail, God will take care of you
When dangers fierce your path assail, God will take care of you

All you may need He will provide, God will take care of you
Nothing you ask will be denied, God will take care of you

No matter what may be the test, God will take care of you
Lean, weary one upon His breast, God will take care of you

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Walk in the Light

January 11th, 2009

Bernard Barton (January 31, 1784 – February 19, 1849) was known as the Quaker poet. Born of Quaker parentage in London, educated at a Quaker school in Ipswich, passed nearly all his life at Woodbridge, for the most part as a clerk in a bank. His wife died at the end of their first year of marriage.

With the exception of some hymns, his works are now nearly forgotten, but he was a most amiable and estimable man-simple and sympathetic. His best known hymns are Lamp of our feet, whereby we trace, Walk in the light, so shalt thou know, Fear not, Zion’s sons and daughters, Hath the invitation ended?, See we not beyond the portal?, Those who live in love shall know.

We sang this in church today. For me, it was my first time learning this short but meaningful hymn. I would like to dedicate this hymn to Henry from http://www.walkinlight.com whose domain name matches the name of this hymn, and to all those from New Life BP Church.

May we always walk in the light of Jesus. (Jn 8:12)

Lyrics: Bernard Barton
Music: American Melody

Walk in the light! so thou know that fellowship of love.
His Spirit only can bestow Who reigns in light above.

Walk in the light! and thou shalt find Thy heart made truly His
Who dwells in cloudless light enshrined, In whom no darkness is.

Walk in the light! and thou shalt own Thy darkness passed away
Because that light hath on thee shine In which is perfect day.

Walk in the light! and e’en the tomb No fearful shade shall wear
Glory shall chase away its gloom, For Christ hath conquered there.

Walk in the light! thy path shall be A path, tho thorny bright
For God, by grace, shall dwell in thee, And God himself is light.

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Jesus Lover of my Soul

January 11th, 2009

Mrs. Mary Hoo­ver, of Belle­fonte, Penn­syl­van­ia, whose grand­mo­ther was the her­o­ine of the sto­ry, has re­lat­ed to her pas­tor this fam­i­ly tra­di­tion: Charles Wesley was preach­ing in the fields of the par­ish of Killy­leagh, Coun­ty Down, Ire­land, when he was at­tacked by men who did not ap­prove of his doc­trines. He sought re­fuge in a house lo­cat­ed on what was known as the Is­land Barn Farm. The far­mer’s wife, Jane Low­rie Moore, told him to hide in the milk­house, down in the gar­den. Soon the mob came and de­mand­ed the fu­gi­tive. She tried to qui­et them by of­fer­ing them re­fresh­ments. Go­ing down to the milk­house, she di­rect­ed Mr. Wesley to get through the rear win­dow and hide un­der the hedge, by which ran a lit­tle brook. In that hid­ing-place, with the cries of his pur­su­ers all about him, he wrote this im­mor­tal hymn. De­scend­ants of Mrs. Moore still live in the house, which is much the same as it was in Wes­ley’s time.

This is a mournful but beautiful hymn. The tune name is ABERYSTWYTH.

Lyrics: Charles Wesley
Music: Joseph Parry

Jesus Lover of my soul
Let me to thy bosom fly
While the nearer waters roll
While the tempest still is high
Hide me, O my Saviour hide
Till the storm of life is past
Safe into the haven guide
O receive my soul at last

Other refuge have I none
Hangs my helpless soul on thee
Leave, ah! leave me not alone
Still support and comfort me!
All my trust on thee is stayed
All my help from thee I bring
Cover my defenceless head
With the shadow of thy wing

Thou, O Christ, art all I want
More than all in thee I find
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint
Heal the sick, and lead the blind
Just and holy is thy Name
I am all unrighteousness
False and full of sin I am
Thou art full of truth and grace

Plenteous grace with thee is found
Grace to cover all my sin
Let the healing stream abound
Make and keep me pure within
Thou of life the Fountain art
Freely let me take of thee
Spring thou up within my heart
Rise to all eternity


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God Leads Us Along

January 9th, 2009

This is a slow meditative hymn which reminds us of God’s providence, even through difficult situations. The author and composer of “God Leads Us Along” was an obscure preacher and carpenter who spent a lifetime humbly serving God in small rural areas. Often the salary was meager and life was difficult for his family. Through it all, however, George Young and his wife never wavered in their loyalty to God and His service.

The story is told that after much struggle and effort, the George Young family was finally able to move into their own small home, which they had built themselves. Their joy seemed complete. But then, while Young was away holding meetings in another area, hoodlums who disliked the preacher’s gospel message set fire to the house, leaving nothing but a heap of ashes. It is thought that out of that tragic experience, George Young completed this hymn, which reaffirms so well the words of Job 35:10: “God my Maker, who gives songs in the night.”

Words and Music: G.A Young

In shady, green pastures, so rich and so sweet,
God leads His dear children along;
Where the water’s cool flow bathes the weary one’s feet,
God leads His dear children along.

Some through the waters, some through the flood,
Some through the fire, but all through the blood;
Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,
In the night season and all the day long.

Sometimes on the mount where the sun shines so bright,
God leads His dear children along;
Sometimes in the valley, in darkest of night,
God leads His dear children along.

Though sorrows befall us and evils oppose,
God leads His dear children along;
Through grace we can conquer, defeat all our foes,
God leads His dear children along.

Away from the mire, and away from the clay,
God leads His dear children along;
Away up in glory, eternity’s day,
God leads His dear children along.

May the Lord help us through our struggles in life.

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May The Lord Find Us Faithful – Sunday School P5 Video

January 7th, 2009

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There is a Fountain

January 5th, 2009

This is one of the first hymns Cow­per wrote af­ter his first at­tack of tem­po­ra­ry mad­ness. Cow­per had been prom­ised a post as Clerk of the Jour­nal to the House of Lords, but was dis­mayed up­on learn­ing he would have to un­der­go a pub­lic ex­am­in­a­tion in the House be­fore be­gin­ning his du­ties. The fol­low­ing ar­ti­cle from the North Amer­i­can Re­view, Jan­u­a­ry, 1834, de­scribes his di­lem­ma, and how God pre­vent­ed him from de­stroy­ing him­self:

As the time drew nigh, his agony became more and more in­tense; he hoped and be­lieved that mad­ness would come to relieve him; he attempted also to make up his mind to commit su­i­cide, though his conscience bore stern testimony against it; he could not by any argument per­suade himself that it was right, but this des­per­a­tion pre­vailed, and he pro­cured from an apothecary the means of self-destruction. On the day before his public appearance was to be made, he happened to notice a letter in the newspaper, which to his dis­or­dered mind seemed like a ma­lig­nant li­bel on himself. He im­med­i­ate­ly threw down the pa­per and rushed into the fields, de­ter­mined to die in a ditch, but the thought struck him that he might es­cape from the count­ry. With the same vi­o­lence he pro­ceed­ed to make hasty prep­ar­a­tions for his flight; but while he was en­gaged in pack­ing his port­man­teau his mind changed, and he threw him­self into a coach, or­der­ing the man to drive to the Tower wharf, in­tend­ing to throw him­self in­to the ri­ver, and not re­flect­ing that it would be im­poss­i­ble to ac­comp­lish his pur­pose in that pub­lic spot. On ap­proach­ing the wa­ter, he found a por­ter seated upon some goods: he then re­turned to the coach and was con­veyed to his lodg­ings at the Temple. On the way he at­tempt­ed to drink the laud­a­num, but as oft­en as he raised it, a con­vuls­ive agi­ta­tion of his frame pre­vent­ed it from reach­ing his lips; and thus, re­gret­ting the loss of the op­por­tun­i­ty, but un­a­ble to avail him­self of it, he ar­rived, half dead with an­guish, at his apart­ment. He then shut the doors and threw him­self upon the bed with the laud­a­num near him, try­ing to lash himself up to the deed; but a voice within seemed con­stant­ly to for­bid it, and as of­ten as he ex­tend­ed his hand to the poi­son, his fing­ers were con­tract­ed and held back by spasms.

At this time one of the in­mates of the place came in, but he con­cealed his ag­i­ta­tion, and as soon as he was left alone, a change came over him, and so de­test­a­ble did the deed ap­pear, that he threw away the laud­a­num and dashed the vial to pieces. The rest of the day was spent in heavy insensibility, and at night he slept as usual; but on waking at three in the morning, he took his penknife and lay with his weight upon it, the point toward his heart. It was brok­en and would not pen­e­trate. At day break he arose, and pas­sing a strong gar­ter around his neck, fast­ened it to the frame of his bed: this gave way with his weight, but on securing it to the door, he was more successful, and remained suspended till he had lost all consciousness of existence. After a time the garter broke and he fell to the floor, so that his life was saved.; but the conflict had been greater than his reason could endure. He felt for himself a contempt not to be expressed or imagined; whenever he went into the street, it seemed as if every eye flashed upon him with indignation and scorn; he felt as if he had offended God so deep­ly that his guilt could ne­ver be for­giv­en, and his whole heart was filled with tu­mult­u­ous pangs of despair. Mad­ness was not far off, or rather mad­ness was al­ready come.

Af­ter re­cov­er­ing, Cow­per came to real­ize how God can erase the stain of any sin.

I love this good old fashioned American hymn. The lyrics of this piece are especially meaningful.

Lyrics: William Cowper
Music: American melody

There is a fountain filled with blood
drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;
and sinners plunged beneath that flood
lose all their guilty stains.
Lose all their guilty stains,
lose all their guilty stains;
and sinners plunged beneath that flood
lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see
that fountain in his day;
and there may I, though vile as he,
wash all my sins away.
Wash all my sins away,
wash all my sins away;
and there may I, though vile as he,
wash all my sins away.

Dear dying Lamb, thy precious blood
shall never lose its power
till all the ransomed church of God
be saved, to sin no more.
Be saved, to sin no more,
be saved, to sin no more;
till all the ransomed church of God
be saved, to sin no more.

E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream
thy flowing wounds supply,
redeeming love has been my theme,
and shall be till I die.
And shall be till I die,
and shall be till I die;
redeeming love has been my theme,
and shall be till I die.

When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
lies silent in the grave.
Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
I’ll sing thy power to save,
I’ll sing thy power to save,
I’ll sing thy power to save,
Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
I’ll sing thy power to save.

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Thanks to God

January 4th, 2009

This sacred song is another Swedish heritage. There is so much gratitude, warmth of text and a folk-like quality in the music that appeals to any believer. “Thanks to God!” is one of the most popular Swedish hymns that found its way into many evangelical hymnals.

August Ludvig Storm was born on October, 1862, in Motala, and converted to Christ in a Salvation Army meeting. He joined the Salvation Army Corps and became one of its leading officers. He wrote this hymn’s text for the Army publication, Stridsropet (The War Cry), on December 5, 1891. The Original Swedish version had four stanzas, with each verse beginning with the word ‘tack’ (thanks,” having a total of thirty-two “thanks” in all.) The gratitude expressed to God ranges from the “dark and dreary fall” to the “pleasant, balmy springtime,” and “pain” as well as “pleasure.”

Storm suffered a back ailment at the age of 37 that left him crippled for life but he continued to administer his Salvation Army duties until his death. A year before his death, he wrote another poem in which he thanked God for the years of calm as well as pain.

Storm’s text later appeared in the Swedish Salvation Army songbook with a Welsh tune. It wasn’t until 1910, when J.A. Hultman included the text with his own tune in the publication Solskenssonger, that the hymn became popular, both in Sweden and in the U.S.

Read more: http://christianmusic.suite101.com/article.cfm/thanks_to_god_hymn_notes#ixzz0KqMAvGQM&C

We sang this in church today. It’s a great hymn which reminds us to be grateful to our omnipotent God and provider.

Lyrics: August Ludvig Storm
Music:  John Alfred Hultman

Thanks, O God, for boundless mercy
From Thy gracious throne above
Thanks for ev’ry need provided
From the fullness of Thy love
Thanks for daily toil and labour
And for rest when shadows fall
Thanks for love of friend and neighbour
And Thy goodness unto all

Thanks for thorns as well as roses
Thanks for weakness and for health
Thanks for clouds as well as sunshine
Thanks for poverty and wealth!
Thanks for pain as well as pleasure
All Thou sendest day by day
And Thy Word our dearest treasure
Shedding light upon our way

Thanks, O God, for home and fireside
Where we share our daily bread
Thanks for hours of sweet communion
When by Thee our souls are fed!
Thanks for grace in time of sorrow
And for joy and peace in Thee
Thanks for hope today, tomorrow
And for all eternity!

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I am Thine, O Lord

January 3rd, 2009

The famous hymn composer Fannie Crosby wrote “I Am Thine, O Lord (Draw Me Nearer).” Ms. Crosby got the idea for “I Am Thine, O Lord (Draw Me Nearer) because she had passed one afternoon at the home of Mr. W. H. Doane, in Cincinnati where the two had been talking about how near God was to us when the evening shadows closed in. By the end of the night, she had written the words to this song.

This beautiful hymn assures us of our salvation and belonging to our Heavenly Father. May we be able to always echo the words “I am Thine, O Lord” in our hearts! Amen.

Lyrics: Fanny J. Crosby
Music: William H. Doane

I am thine, O Lord, I have heard Thy voice,
And it told Thy love to me;
But I long to rise in the arms of faith,
And be closer drawn to Thee.

Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To the cross where Thou hast died;
Draw me nearer, nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To Thy precious, bleeding side.

Consecrate me now to Thy service, Lord,
By the pow’r of grace divine;
Let my soul look up with a steadfast hope,
And my will be lose in Thine.

O the pure delight of a single hour,
That before Thy throne I spend;
When I kneel in prayer, and with Thee, my God,
I commune as friend with friend.

There are depths of love that I cannot know,
Till I cross the narrow sea;
There are heights of joy that I may not reach,
Till I rest in peace with Thee.

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Did you ever talk to God above

January 2nd, 2009

This is an enjoyable Sunday school song for kids and adults alike.

Lyrics: Frances Towle Rath
Music: Greg Soule 

Did you ever talk to God above?
Tell Him that you need a friend to love.
Pray in Jesus’ name believing
that God answers prayer.

Have you told Him all your cares and woes?
Ev’ry tiny little fear He knows.
You can know He’ll always hear
And He will answer prayer.

You can whisper in a crowd to Him.
You can cry when you’re alone to Him.
You don’t have to pray out loud to Him;
He knows your thoughts.

On a lofty mountain peak, He’s there.
In a meadow by a stream, He’s there.
Anywhere on earth you go,
He’s been there from the start.

Find the answer in His Word; it’s true.
You’ll be strong because He walks with you.
By His faithfulness He’ll change you, too.
God answers prayer.

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Count Your Blessings

January 1st, 2009

We sang this at the New Year Eve service at New Life BP Church. What an awesome hymn that reminds us to be grateful to our God for all his bountiful provisions in life this new year.

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