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Sunday
Apr222018

Sunday's Hymn: There Were Ninety and Nine

There were ninety and nine that safely lay
In the shelter of the fold,
But one was out on the hills away,
Far off from the gates of gold—
Away on the mountains wild and bare,
Away from the tender Shepherd’s care.

“Lord, thou hast here thy ninety and nine;
Are they not enough for thee?”
But the Shepherd made answer:
“This of mine has wandered away from me,
And although the road be rough and steep,
I go to the desert to find my sheep.”

But none of the ransomed ever knew
How deep were the waters crossed;
Nor how dark was the night that the Lord passed thro’
Ere he found his sheep that was lost.
Out in the desert he heard its cry—
Sick and helpless, and ready to die.

“Lord, whence are those blood-drops all the way
That mark out the mountain’s track?”
“They were shed for one who had gone astray
Ere the Shepherd could bring him back.”
“Lord, whence are thy hands so rent and torn?
They’re pierced tonight by many a thorn.”

But all thro’ the mountains, thunder riv’n,
And up from the rocky steep,
There arose a glad cry to the gate of heav’n,
“Rejoice! I have found my sheep!”
And the angels echoed around the throne,
“Rejoice, for the Lord brings back his own!”

 —Elizabeth C. Clephane

 

 

 

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Sunday
Apr152018

Sunday's Hymn: Jesus, I Am Resting, Resting

Jesus, I am resting, resting
In the joy of what thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of thy loving heart.
Thou hast bid me gaze upon thee,
As thy beauty fills my soul,
For by thy transforming power,
Thou hast made me whole.

 Refrain
Jesus, I am resting, resting
In the joy of what thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of thy loving heart.


O how great thy lovingkindness,
Vaster, broader than the sea!
O how marvelous thy goodness
Lavished all on me!
Yes, I rest in thee, Beloved,
Know what wealth of grace is thine,
Know thy certainty of promise
And have made it mine.

Simply trusting thee, Lord Jesus,
I behold thee as thou art,
And thy love, so pure, so changeless,
Satisfies my heart;
Satisfies its deepest longings,
Meets, supplies its every need,
Compasseth me round with blessings:
Thine is love indeed.

Ever lift thy face upon me
As I work and wait for thee;
Resting ‘neath thy smile, Lord Jesus,
Earth’s dark shadows flee.
Brightness of my Father’s glory,
Sunshine of my Father’s face,
Keep me ever trusting, resting,
Fill me with thy grace.

—Jean S. Pigott

 

 

 

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Sunday
Apr082018

Sunday's Hymn: Ye Servants of God, Your Master Proclaim

Ye servants of God, your Master proclaim,
And publish abroad his wonderful Name;
The Name, all victorious, of Jesus extol;
His kingdom is glorious, and rules over all.

God ruleth on high, almighty to save;
And still he is nigh—his presence we have:
The great congregation his triumph shall sing,
Ascribing salvation to Jesus, our King.

Salvation to God who sits on the throne!
Let all cry aloud and honor the Son:
The praises of Jesus the angels proclaim,
Fall down on their faces and worship the Lamb.

Then let us adore, and give him his right,
All glory and power, and wisdom and might,
All honor and blessing, with angels above,
And thanks never ceasing for infinite love.

—Charles Wesley

 

 

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