The Loving Shepherd

The love is patient and is kind—
It lifts me up most tenderly;
It never want shall let me find—
That Christ my Shepherd bears for me.

He boasts my dullness not against,
He heatedly me bears no ill,
But leads my soul and keeps it fenc’d
In pastures green by waters still.

Restoring me, he never lords
It o’er, nor putteth me to shame,
But leads me in what path accords
With righteousness, for his great name.

Because in vales of death and woe
Thou emptied’st self to bring me near,
When thence with thee thou bidd’st me go,
There is no evil I will fear.

I love thy rod, for ne’er ’tis brought
Against me sharply as thy foe;
I love thy staff, that’s never thought
Mine endless strayings’ sums to know.

Thou lovest not iniquity
But cleansest me from ev’ry fault;
The flesh, the world, the Enemy
Shall find no pow’r this grace to halt.

Thy truth rejoiceth me within:
‘Tis wine that cheers to overflow,
‘Tis oil that makes my face to shine,
‘Tis bread, my heart in strength to grow.

(Ps 104:15)

You bear, believe, hope, and endure
Through all my weak or sinful ways;
Thy goodness and thy mercy, sure,
Shall me pursue for all my days.

Thy love shall never fail nor fall!
O Shepherd, in thine arms thy sheep
With kindness bear unto thy hall
In steadfast love to ever keep.

—12/13/25. On 1 Corinthians 13 and Psalm 23. To “O Waly Waly.”

Timorousness

Jesus, neath thy splintered cross
May I reckon lesser loss?
Ev’ry dream, and hope, and dare—
Ev’ry trial, fear, and care—
Anything that comes from me
Is surpassed by knowing thee.

(Phil 3:7-8)

Jesus, on thy nails again
May I come and hang my sin?
As thou bring’st thy light to bear,
More and more the dark I fear.
Purge all filth and stain from me;
Let me cleanness find in thee.

(Rom 7:21-25; 1 John 1:9)

Jesus, in thine empty tomb
Might there be for me now room?
Wrap me, weak and full of fear,
In thy grace; inter me there;
And in power raise thou me
Unto confidence in thee.

(Col 2:12; 2 Cor 13:4)

Jesus, at thy feet above
May I lay all other love?
Winnow all my chaff from me;
What is good, secure in thee,
That it may direct my gaze
To its perfect Source in praise.

(Isa 28:27-29; Jam 1:16-17)

Jesus, ere thy rainbowed throne
May I cast whatever crown
Thou think’st fit to set on me
For the good begun by thee
And which thou still workest, too,
Till thou lift me, whole, to you?

(Rev 4:9-11; Phil 1:6)

—12/9/25

Peace

The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Psalm xlvi. 11.

Behold the desolations of the Lord,
How war is ended by his mighty Word:
He breaks the bows and shatters all the spears;
With burning eye the chariots he sears,
And mid the wrack and ruin on his hill
And all the smoking wreckage on its climb,
His whisper soughs above the flames: “Be still,
And know that I am God, and I will be
Revered among all nations; I will be
Exalted in the earth for all of time.”
The Lord of hosts with us has sworn to dwell;
The God of Jacob is our citadel.

—12/2/25. On Psalm 46:8-11.

Insomnia II

If wander my vision away from the cross,
I am lost.
If ever my gaze tear away from the Son,
I am done.
If Jesus should exit the frame of my view,
I am through.

He listens and answers his little one’s prayers,
For he cares.
Bestowing each blessing the lovingest would,
He is good.
Whatever I need to remain at his side,
He’ll provide.

For ev’ry temptation that flies in my face,
He has grace.
If discipline’s needed to teach me to live,
He will give.
In every trial he calls me to share,
He is there.

To the wisdom that orders my life here and now
I will bow.
To the glory that waits where my Savior has gone
I press on.
To the throne of the Father and Spirit and Son
I will run.

—11/30/25

Meditations: November 2025

Thank you that your grace in me balances
The debt I owe to mercy.

The apostle prayed for strength
To comprehend the love of God:
Kindness so rich it must be borne.
If we receive suffering from the Lord,
Shall we not also endure blessing?

(Eph 3:18; Job 2:10; Jer 33:9; 2 Cor 4:17)

Update: Old Work

I recently found my Dropbox folder that has a bunch of old poetry, and I've got a week off from school, so I figured this was a good opportunity to update what has become my portfolio here. I have also been maintaining a hymn index by first line since earlier this year. I will update this post as I keep adding things.

I had originally planned to update this post with work migrated in from my older blog, but since it all lives in the index above and that's a lot of work to link it again now that the school week has started back up, I've altered the plan. Pray I don't alter it further. Never mind, we're doing it.

Hymns

“May the mind of Christ, the humble”
A Prayer for Daily Strength
The Faithful Pastor
Election
The Second Coming
Faith, Hope, & Love
“Death, where now hath gone thy stinging?”
A Prayer for Family Worship

Poetry

The Noble Book
Funereal Thoughts
“Tonight have I supp'd with the heroes of old”
Lost Love
Maggie with the Roses in Her Hair
Foolishness
“If I were not already late for work”
Shame
Shame II
Meditations: December 2022
Meditations: Summer 2023
The Love of Christ
Weathering

Previously Added Hymns

Break unto Us the Living Bread
The Perseverance of the Saints
Easter Hymn
Prompte et Sincere
The LORD is my shepherd
Psalm 134
Unser Herrscher, unser König
Perfect love casteth out fear
A Traveler's Prayer
Psalm 99
A Plea
Psalm 51
Psalm 43
Flow Forth, My Tongue, in Song
Christ lag in Todesbanden
Christmas Lullaby
Komm, Jesu, Komm

Magnificat

And Mary said, Luke i. 46.

O magnify, my soul, the Lord,
And in thy God rejoice.
He doth thy lowliness record
With blessing in his voice.
His might is worthy of all fame,
And holy is his name.

His mercy is for those who fear
His name in ev’ry day.
His mighty arm doth scatter near
And far the proud away.
He hath the mighty toppled all
But lifted up the small.

The hungry take from him their fill;
The rich may only pine.
Thus to his servant Israel
His face hath turned to shine.
He mercy to our fathers swore
Which standeth evermore.

—11/14/25. From Luke 1:46-55. To “Morning Song” (Ananias Davisson), perhaps.

Resurrection

But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, 1 Cor. xv. 20.

Christ is raised for our salvation!
For our sins he bled and died,
(Perfect, pure propitiation!
Justice he has satisfied!)
Then he rose the third-day morning
As the firstfruits of his kin
Whom he gave himself to win,
All their wretchedness unscorning.
Now by faith his life they see,
E’en the lowest— even me.

(1 Cor 15:1-9, 20)

As in Adam we must perish,
So in Christ we shall revive:
Great appearing that we cherish!
He who versus death doth strive
Will fulfill all resurrection,
Then in heav’n assume his seat,
All creation at his feet
Placed in firm, complete subjection
By the Father, in whose praise
He shall lead the saints always.

(1 Cor 15:21-28; 2 Tim 4:8; Heb 2:12-13)

Never kernel grew nor flourished
Save it fell into the ground,
Yet when God the seed hath nourished,
Lo, what fruit doth then abound!
Just as man excels creation,
As the sun all stars outshines,
So the frame our Lord designs
Passeth earthly expectation—
As we have been born of dust,
Likewise soon of heav’n we must.

(1 Cor 15:35-49; John 12:24; 1 John 3:2)

Therefore I will fear no terror,
Not another’s death, nor mine,
For I know the Mercy-Bearer
Brings consuming life divine
Unto death’s envenomed power:
Where, O grave, is victory?
Ill in us he cannot see,
Having sated Sinai’s glower.
Nothing can our souls distress,
Since the Savior deigns to bless.

(1 Cor 15:54-57; Hab 1:13)

Though against us stand betaken
Either sin, or hell, or foes,
Grace doth keep us yet unshaken
As thy gospel in us grows;
Always in thy work abounding,
Knowing labor is not vain,
Sure and steadfast we remain,
E’er in praise to thee resounding
And in patience waiting here
Till thy glory shall appear.

(1 Cor 15:57-58; James 5:7-8)

—11/4/25. From 1 Corinthians 15. To “Sollt’ ich meinem Gott nicht singen” (Johann Schop).

Meditations: October 2025

The thorn pricks to wound and tear;
Grace’s needle pricks to stitch back together.

(2 Cor 12:7-9)

Crucify my anxiety on this truth:
The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases.

(Lam 3:22)

[[Why did they bring the adulteress to Jesus?
Why did he not condemn her?
Did she, understanding the weight of sin,
Beg to be judged by the friend of sinners?]]

[[John 7:53-8:11]]

Security

Who is sufficient for these things? 2 Cor. ii. 16.

O Comfort from the Lord,
Who all his depths declares,
Who plants in us the living word
And girds our prayers:
For thorns and flaming darts,
Be all sufficiency,
And unto glory seal our hearts
As guarantee.

O Wisdom from on high,
Who sojourned here below
And intercedes unceasingly
In us to grow:
Guide every step we take,
Watch o’er us while we sleep,
And still be with us when we wake
To converse keep.

O Patriarch of Lights,
In constance shining e’er,
Who every blessing in the heights
Dost freely share,
Predestining in love,
Adopting by thy grace:
We lift our eyes to thee above
With fear and praise.

—10/20/25. To “Leoni” (“The God of Abraham Praise”).

Vineyard Cycle (Imperfect)

I. Isaiah v. 1–4

A ballad let me sing for my beloved,
Who had a vineyard on a fertile slope,
Who cleared and dug and watered with the hope
That vintage fine to flourish would be moved.
He built a tow’r amid the trellises;
Under its shade a vat and press he hewed;
Thus in his former wilderness he would
Enjoy the fruit of all he toiled to dress,
But lo! no sweet it yielded, only sour.
Now judge ye for my love between his plot:
What untried care remained within his pow’r?
What else could he have done that he did not?
O men of Judah and Jerusalem,
Why only wildness hath he got of them?


II. Isaiah v. 5–7 ; Hosea xi. 8–9

Hear ye my love declare that he intends
His faithless arbor not with love to prune,
Its hedge with fire and grazing to consume,
Its wall against with trampling to contemn,
To lay it waste, be neither dressed nor hoed,
But thorns and briers on its frames be grown,
And barren clouds with nothing wilt the ground,
Since it with holiness be unendued.
And yet, love’s fire declares— and yet— and yet—
How can I hand them over to their fate?
How can I give them all they ought to get?
Am I not greater than their sin is great?
O men of Israel and Ephraim,
How can I make a perfect end of them?


III. Psalm lxxx. 8–11, 14–19

My Lord, my love, a vine thou drewest out
Of nations, planted, tended, and you bade
The tree-lined mounts find respite in her shade
And Sea and River stand her twinned redoubt.
Look down from heaven, God of hosts, and see
The fiery waste wherein thy vineyard lies,
How by th’ Accuser’s sword thy planting dies,
And how, great God, by this he spits at thee.
Have pity on thy bruised and smoking stem,
And gird the holy Son in perfect might;
To green abundance resurrect thou them;
Thy hand be on the man upon thy right.
O son of God and yet the son of man,
Shine on us, save us, for thou only can.

—Completed 10/9/25

Mortifying Sin

The LORD has said that he would dwell in thick darkness. 2 Chron. vi. 1.

“God has said in shadow clouded
He will dwell,” all else apart,
From the dark by darkness shrouded,
And in such has lain my heart,
Yet thy glory’s pillar, blazing
Like the first Creation morn,
Shines within, my spirit raising:
“Let there be” the dead reborn.

When the Adversary’s temptrance
Lies in wait to lead astray,
Grant us easy, quick repentance
To regain thy narrow way,
Till our heart and soul and vigor
Join in glorified accord,
Freed from flesh-restraining rigor,
To enjoy thee as their Lord.

Gracious Spirit, our salvation
Keep till grace’s work is done;
Let us fear no condemnation
As we live within the Son;
Bid us seek the Father’s glory
Till to glory we draw nigh,
Where our endless, laudatory
Song will praise thee, Lord on high.

—To Nettleton (“Come, Thou Fount”).

Meditations: September 2025

The Lord has said that he would dwell in thick darkness,
And such is my heart:
The thick darkness in which he dwells.
His mercies are new every morning;
One morning, his mercies will not need to be new.
That day will never end.

(2 Chron 6:1; Lam 3:22-23; Rev 21:25)

That is actually the last, chronologically, of the meditations below, but it is a wonderful summary of my month.

Teach me, my Savior, how to set mine eyes
Above, nor aim at any earthly prize,
But on thy cross and throne my gaze be fix’d,
Ev’ry affection bent t’ward thee, unmix’d,
So I would set my steps to then be most
To workings of thy Spirit unoppos’d,
As love and joy and peace and patience be
With ev’ry other fruit matur’d in me,
Until thou liftest up this childish frame
Unto thy Father’s side and thine, thy name—
The threefold Name that yet resolves as one—
To praise, and too the vict’ry thou hast won
O’er sin and death and me. My being cries,
O teach me, Savior, how to set mine eyes.

—On Colossians 3:1-2. Completed 9/29/25.

Anxiety's Resolution

I do not know what I shall be
Within a day or month or year
But trust my Lord’s authority
O’er everything that meets me here.

I know too well what I would be
Hadst thou not freely saved my soul,
So I commit mine all to thee;
Until thou come, sir, keep it whole.

I’ve tasted, too, what I can be
When from thy providence I stray,
So give me grace to trust in thee
To straighten out mine every way.

I thank you, Lord, that I have been
An anxious fool, yet still may find
Forgiveness for this silly sin
And trade it for your peace of mind.

I cannot fathom what I’ll be,
O Savior, when at last by grace,
My faith ensightened, I can see
And mirror thy most holy face.

Anxiety's Confession

I do not know what I shall be
Within a year, or month, or day;
Thy will, my Lord, I cannot see;
I know not how to make my way.

I do not know what I shall be
But fear thy Spirit might not guide
Me out of my iniquity
Or to the goodness at thy side.

I do not know what I shall be
If more by faith than sight I move
But know that my anxiety
Doth not my Master fear nor love.

So teach me what I ought to be:
A creature, who cannot command
The rains or snows to fall, like thee,
But waits, my Father, for thy hand.

I do not know what I shall be,
O Savior, when at last by grace,
Mine eyes enlightened, I shall see
And mirror thy most holy face.

Meditations: August 2025

Three things sing to their maker;
Four lift their voice to heaven:
The songbird lauds at morning
When he wakes to your beauty;
The cicada chants antiphon all afternoon,
Calling to you for his mate;
The coyote cries at night
Till you satisfy him with food;
And the lips of your servants praise
As they wait for you.

(In the style of Prov 30.)

My soul is very sorrowful, even to death.
My Lord, remain here and watch over me,
Far better than I have waited for you.

(Matt 26:28)

Just across this wilderness,
Is my loving Master, who
Momentary, light distress
Bids me pass and join him through.
Though it is a burning waste,
I will limp to him in haste.

Just across this raging sea
Walks my Lord upon the main,
To his side commanding me,
Saving when I sink again.
When most sorely waves distress,
Then his hand is mightiest.

Just upon this wooden cross
Where my Savior hung for sin,
I will suffer every loss,
Only let me live with him.
Though my spirit waste away,
He will raise it day by day.

Just across eternity
Lies eternity beyond,
Passing all hyperbole
With the glory therein found.
Though my weeping spend the night,
Joy will dawn in boundless light.

—8/24/25

Weathering

My Love—‘tis simplest name her Love—
Delighted in the clouds above,
And I do own ‘twas my delight
Like her to trace their heav’nly flight.
We spent a summer, maybe two,
(So past ‘twas now, I can’t recall)
Trying to keep the clouds in view
Before the storms began to fall.

But when they broke, how hard they fell!
We parted at the thunder’s knell,
To lightnings all around us blast,
And some of which ourselves had cast.
I wish that shattered Love could find
A cloud ungrayed by loss or pains,
Where mem’ry to us both were kind
And soothing as the gentle rains.

A decade and some years had gone
Wherein my gaze was never borne
Above, but to the ground was cast
Lest I recall those summers past,
Until a Friend spoke from the blue
To share a tear that I had shed;
Her nimb directed terrene view
Adore again a thunderhead.

I wish my mourning Friend could find
A cloud where memory is kind,
That softens sorrow’s graven pains
Like marble in its gentle rains.
Ah, Lord! Sing o’er my Friend in love—
Surpass my song when Love was mine—
Her sighs and tears that waft above
Condense to peace and joy sublime.

—8/2/25. After a Friend.

Meditations: July 2025

Lord, you are a good father:
To none who asks for bread do you give stones;
You do not give a serpent for fish.
Am I allowed to pray like I’m five?
In childish exactness, with absurd expectation?
Be pleased to answer ridiculous petitions;
Nevertheless, not my will but yours be done.

(Matt 7:9-11; Luke 11:5-8; Luke 22:42)

Psalm 98

Sing to God a song anew;
He doth mighty marvels do;
He in holiness and might
Brings the nations to his light,
Working his salvation!

From the house of Israel,
God has sent Emmanuel;
Now the furthest nations praise,
“Glories in the highest” raise,
Lauding his salvation!

Psalmists, prophets, lift your lyre;
Saints in melody inspire;
Angels, with a heav’nly sound,
Blow your trumpet all around—
Harmonize salvation!

Rivers, seas, and hills resound:
In your midst your Maker’s found;
He will judge with equity
All upon the earth that be,
Righteous in salvation!

Come, Lord Jesus, even so,
To redeem the earth below;
Bring the lowly and the least
To enjoy thy marriage feast,
Joy of our salvation!

Meditations: June 2025

Lord, make me a tree planted by rivers of water,
Bearing fruit in my season, unwithered in leaf,
With my fruitful vine tangled around me
And all my olive shoots at my table.

(Ps 1:3; 128:3)

I have been trying to meditate more on Scripture, inspired by and with help from a chapter in Tim Keller’s book Prayer: Experiencing Awe and Intimacy with God. The above and below have been my recurring meditations this month. Foremost on this list is Ps 123, which however I do not include because I have not altered it. I wait for you, O Lord. All else is excerpted from, remixed from, or (thunderhead) inspired by the text of Scripture as I seek to apply it to my life. I don’t remember every reference, but if you see a weird turn of phrase, you can probably search the ESV to find its origin.

Buried with Christ

We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death. Romans vi. 4.

Buried with Christ, my soul is free!
From all the stench of sin and guilt
Formerly that surrounded me
Until the Savior’s blood was spilt,
Until they laid him in the tomb,
Until the dead was done away,
Until they sealed with heavy stone
The crypt where death’s corruption lay.
    (Rom 6:3; Matt 27:57-60;
    Mark 15:42-46; Luke 23:50-53;
    John 19:38-42; Rom 6:6 NASB)

Buried with Christ, how can we rise
Again to dwell in sin’s domain?
The old man’s dead; he cannot prise
The grave apart, nor live again!
For Jesus gave his final breath
Atonement for our souls to win
And baptized us into his death
To free from slavery to sin.
    (Rom 6:1-4a, 6)

Buried with Christ, and dead to sin!
Behind his back it now is cast,
Ev’ry miasma once within
Dispersed, forgiven, blotted—past!
His sacrifice was once, for all
Our sins to plunge into the seas,
To lawless deeds no more recall
But cast them far as west from east.
    (Isa 38:17; 43:25; 44:22; Jer 31:34;
    Heb 9:26b; Mic 7:19; Heb 10:17-18;
    Ps 103:12)

Buried with Christ, I now press on
To make his resurrection mine;
Jesus has called me for his own
And bids me leave all else behind.
I do not fully here attain
To all that then I hope to be,
Yet still by faith I’ll upward strain
Until his glory raises me.
    (Phil 3:12-15)

—6/22/25

Forgive Us Our Debts

Ah, Lord, I hear my debtors knock
With hat in hand upon my mind,
Who’ve long since met my stony block
Of heart, and ceased my face to find.

And can I really fancy me
A better man than they have been
Because the first in repartee
Was theirs, against me first the sin?

For Lord, you know my rocky heart,
How furrows crooken on its plain;
You saw me take the meaner part
And curse my debtors for my pain.

Ah, friend of sinners, full of grace—
Assuming curses meant for me!—
Excruciated in my place,
E’en still, “forgive him” was thy plea.

O Lamb, you died as much for them
And their atonement as for me.
Forgive, restore, and comfort them;
Forgive, restore, and comfort me.

—6/17/25

Inscription on a Shard of Heart

If words were a kiss then I’ve kissed you
...
[I have heard that this fragment concerns a prolonged correspondence,
But the rest of the author is lost or was never at all.]
...
But once I wished to touch your cheek
Without a metaphor.

O bless the Lord, my soul, when praise
Is furthest from my lips,
For most thou needest then to raise
How great his wisdom is,
How strong his pow’r, how firm his will,
Unchanged, though change thou be,
How faithfully his love cleaves still
To cleave unfaith from thee.

O bless the Lord, my soul, when death
Bears down upon my heart;
Though he thee slay, thy final breath
Must not from hope depart.
I know that my Redeemer lives,
And at the last shall stand
Upon the earth, and comfort give
By his tear-wiping hand.
    (Job 13:15; 19:25; Isa 25:8;
    Rev 7:17; 21:4)

O bless the Lord, my soul, when sin
Most sorely fills my breast,
When all the vileness left within
Sours meat and curdles rest,
For God in Christ gives victory;
‘Twill fall before his grace!
Why should vestigial darkness, me,
Stint him of any praise?
    (Rom 7:21-25; 1 Cor 15:57)

O bless the Lord, my soul, in want,
Where need and longing meet,
For none more than the Savior pant
Nor greater wish entreat
Than for his kingdom to appear
And Jesus’ face to see
(And what, he says, remaineth dear
He will add unto thee).
    (Ps 42:1; Matt 6:31-33)

O bless the Lord, my soul, in all
And any circumstance;
Let my afflictions on him fall,
And every care advance
To him whose might, my soul, doth save,
Who o’er thee doth rejoice
With murmurs of his calming love
And songs of gladsome voice.
    (1 Pet 5:6-11; Zeph 3:17)

—For gritted teeth.

The Love of Christ

How broad is the love of Christ?
It has gone out to the ends of the earth.
How wide it spreads!
As far as the east is from the west,
So far does he remove transgression.

How long is the love of Christ?
Stretching from eternity past to evermore.
How far it extends!
While we were still a long way off,
Compassion felt, ran, and embraced.

How high is the love of Christ?
High as heaven above earth—
How lofty he dwells!—
So great is his mercy,
Blessing us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.

How deep is the love of Christ?
As deep as Himself.
How unsearchable his thoughts, how inscrutable his ways!
The secret things belong to the Lord our God,
But his revelation of himself is for us forever.

Give us strength, O Christ, to know thy love.

—5/19/25. On Eph 3:18.

Acts 16:25-31

The Spirit that caused Paul to sing
In the Philippian jail
Shall praises from mine own lips bring
Whatever may assail.

When trial links its stoutest chains,
Then shall I sing most clear;
No doubt be left who me sustains
To them that, silent, hear.

Yea, though the earth’s foundations shake
Before the Lord on high,
“He’ll never leave me, nor forsake”
Will be my melody.

Though every door on earth be barred
By those that hate his name
Yet David’s key and David’s Lord
Can open just the same.

When throes of death my spirit grieve,
This truth yet quickens me:
“In Jesus Christ the Lord believe,
And thou shalt savèd be.”

—5/10/25

Jesus Freely Died for Me

Once I was a slave to sin,
Child of hell, and dead within,
But the Lord in kindness sought,
And his blood my pardon bought;
Once I dwelt in darkest night,
Blind but hating heaven’s light;
Now with eyes of faith I see:
Jesus freely died for me.

When the tempter doth entice
Back to ev’ry once-loved vice,
When th’ accuser sin recalls
Which should ban from heaven’s rolls,
I’ve an advocate above;
E’er he intercedes in love;
Ere the bar he bids me plea,
“Jesus freely died for me.”

When I find my cross to bear,
Then I trust my master’s care;
He has all-sufficient grace
For each trial I must face.
He that drained th’ afflicting cup
Bids me fill his suff’ring up,
Yet this balm shall comfort be:
“Jesus freely died for me.”

When at last my fight is done,
When at last my race is run,
When at last the thorny crown,
Changed to laurel, is mine own,
When I hear the blessed word:
“Faithful one, enjoy thy Lord,”
Free at last, my song shall be:
“Jesus died, and lives, for me.”

Isaiah 12

You will say in that day:

I will give thanks, O LORD, to thee,
For though thine anger fiercely burned,
Thou hast thy wrath in mercy turned,
That thou might’st turn to comfort me.

My God—O see!—salvation is;
Therefore I trust him fearlessly.
JESUS my strength and melody
And ever-active Savior is.

The waters of the SPIRIT burst
Living, from out the throne of God
And ever deep’ning flow abroad;
With joy I draw, no more to thirst.

I sound the joyous, clarion call:
JEHOVAH thank and call upon!
His deeds must be more widely known!
His name exalted over all!

With songs of glory celebrate,
In all the earth make known his grace,
Rejoice, and sing, ye dwelling place,
For YAHWEH in your midst is great.

Small Group Prayers

In poverty, be riches,
In hunger, living food,
In dry and barren deserts,
The fount of every good;
In nakedness and sickness,
Be robes of righteous white
And health upon the sojourn
To New Jerusalem’s light.

In sorrow, be our helper;
In grief, be ever near;
In trial, be our patience;
When tempted, egress clear.
O teach us in the valley,
Though death’s deep shade be there,
To follow without fearing
And trust your perfect care.

Our many friends and family
Who yet contend with thee,
Have mercy and compassion
Upon them; let them see
That you alone can save them
From every grief and pride,
That every good they grope for
Is only at your side.

Let us be ever grateful
For every gift you send;
Both spiritual and earthly,
We get them from your hand.
Assured that all successes
Your providence doth raise,
As sacrifice we offer
Our grateful lips in praise.

As we your word do open,
Upon us now bestow
To hear and understand it
And application know,
But most of all enlighten
Those eyes within our heart,
To raise us up to glory
And see thee as thou art.

O Father in the highest,
O Son who intercedes,
And thou, O Holy Spirit
Who helps us in our need,
We now yet feebly praise thee—
Give pow’r to thee adore!—
To thee be all the glory
Now and forevermore.

—To “All Sufficient Merit,” 4/3/25

Righteousness Applied

Thy righteousness, O God, extendeth
Far o’er the loftiest mountain height,
Ev’ry bright star beyond ascendeth,
Finding its zenith in thy light,
Where all thy servants praise thy judgments,
Blessing thy ways as all aright.

Mine own iniquity was sinking
Deeper than any ocean trench,
Still I had dug my grave, unthinking
Justice was waiting me to wrench
Into Gehenna’s terrors finally:
There worm undying, flame unquenched.

Thy lovingkindness, Jesus, sought me
Past heights of heav’n to deepest hell,
With thine atoning blood hast bought me,
Bondage to sin in me to quell,
Fitted in holy, righteous linen
That I may ‘neath thy glory dwell.

In thy great power, Savior, keep me
Till thy redeeming work is done;
Sanctify with thy grace completely;
Give thine endurance, race to run
Unto thee, Jesus, source, perfecter,
Unto thee, Father, Spirit, Son.

—To “Fragrance.” Finished 3/29/25.

Alive in Christ:
Spin me around like one of those tops,
The cheapy plastic ones,
The ones that never stop.
Let all the sin fly off
Like when you lean too far off a merry-go-round;
The gravity of joy overcome me
Like when you lean far enough in
And find yourself in the center of a star,
Massive, crushing—alive!
Spin me around, O life-giving Christ;
Whirl me with your righteous love and power,
That I may never stop.
—3/13/25

When golden rays my bleary eyelids bless,
When nature’s cheerful waking waketh me,
I meditate on all thy faithfulness
And raise anew extolling melody,
For as thy mercies rise again each morn,
I will praise the Lord who breaks the dawn.

When trial presses in upon my soul,
When guilt unto despair me doth entice,
When all thy calling deeps above me roll,
When most I feel a living sacrifice—
Although the storm be filled with nought but pain,
I will praise the Lord who sends the rain.

From youth thy word hath guarded all my ways;
Thou’st saved me from each folly I have loved,
Blessed with thy lovingkindness all my days,
My rocky cleft, my hiding place hath proved,
So as the shadows grow and dims the light,
I will praise the Lord until the night.

When from corruption’s bondage I am free
And pass from fruit to infiniter gain,
When mortal puts on immortality
And sown in dust, I rise the stuff of heav’n,
When crown of life I gain to throneward cast,
I will praise thee perfectly at last.

—2/9/25