Poetry Saturday—Come, My Soul, With Every Care

John NewtonCome, my soul, thy suit prepare:
Jesus loves to answer prayer;
He Himself has bid thee pray,
Therefore will not say thee nay;
Therefore will not say thee nay.

Thou art coming to a King,
Large petitions with thee bring;
For His grace and power are such,
None can ever ask too much;
None can ever ask too much.

With my burden I begin:
Lord, remove this load of sin;
Let Thy blood, for sinners spilt,
Set my conscience free from guilt;
Set my conscience free from guilt.

Lord, I come to Thee for rest,
Take possession of my breast;
There Thy blood bought right maintain,
And without a rival reign;
And without a rival reign.

As the image in the glass
Answers the beholder’s face;
Thus unto my heart appear,
Print Thine own resemblance there;
Print Thine own resemblance there.

While I am a pilgrim here,
Let Thy love my spirit cheer;
As my Guide, my Guard, my Friend,
Lead me to my journey’s end;
Lead me to my journey’s end.

Show me what I have to do,
Every hour my strength renew:
Let me live a life of faith,
Let me die Thy people’s death;
Let me die Thy people’s death. —John Newton

Poetry Saturday—Light Shining Out Of Darkness

William CowperGod 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, Light Shining Out Of Darkness

Book Reviews From 2014

BookshelfHere are the books I read and reviewed in 2014. Click a title to read the review…

12 Huge Mistakes Parents Can Avoid

A Call To Prayer

Beyond IQ

Bible Reading

C.S. Lewis In A Time Of War

Create

David Wilkerson

Did Jesus Rise From The Dead?

Discipleship In Crisis

Finding God In Hidden Places

Finding The Love Of Your Life

From This Day Forward

God’s Pursuit Of Man

High Adventure In Tibet

Holy Fire

How Do You Kill 11 Million People?

How High Will You Climb?

Humility

I Like Giving

Impertinent Poems

In His Steps

Inspire To Be Great

Jesus Daily

Keeping The Ten Commandments

Lincoln’s Battle With God

Mansfield’s Book Of Manly Men

Miracles

Pentecost

Pilgrim’s Progress

Pleasure & Profit In Bible Study

Sidelined

Smith Wigglesworth On Prayer, Power & Miracles

Stand Strong

Tactics

Taste And See

The Cell’s Design

The Christian’s Secret Of A Happy Life

The Facts On World Religions

The Furious Longing Of God

The Global War On Christians

The Greatest Words Ever Spoken

The Illustrated Guide To The Authors Of The Bible

The Love Of God

The Ministry Of God’s Word

The Moral Foundations Of Life

The Quick-Start Guide To The Whole Bible

The Solomon Seduction

There Is A God

This Day In Christian History

Transforming Grace

Winning With Principle

Yawning At Tigers

Here are my book reviews for 2011.

Here are my book reviews for 2012.

Here are my book reviews for 2013.

Poetry Saturday—Don’t Look Back

John WoodenThe years have left their imprint
On my hands and on my face.
Erect no longer is my walk
And slower is my pace.

But there is no fear within my heart
Because I’m growing old
I only wish I had more time
To better serve my Lord.

When I’ve gone to Him in prayer
He has brought me inner peace
And soon my cares and worries
And other problems cease.

He has helped in so many ways,
He has never let me down,
Why should I fear the future
When soon I could be near His crown.

Though I know down here my time is short
There is endless time up there
And He will forgive and keep me
Forever in His loving care.

May I not waste an hour
That’s left to glorify the Name
Of the One Who died, that we might live
And for our sins, took all the blame. —John Wooden

 

Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus

AdventWe began our series on The Carols Of Christmas by looking at the poem written by Charles Wesley in 1744: Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus. As far as I can find, Wesley never shared where he got his inspiration for this prose, but I have a hunch that it might be from a song in the Bible called The Benedictus.

Zechariah had been unable to speak for nearly a year because of his doubt over the message God sent him through the angel (see Luke 1:5-20). When his son was born and Zechariah named him John, his tongue was loosed and he “was filled with the Holy Spirit” and burst into song (Luke 1:67-79). The first word of his song in Latin is benedictus, from which the name is derived.

Here’s what I love about both Zechariah’s and Wesley’s songs—they both look forward to Christ’s First Advent and His Second Advent. Mary was still pregnant with Jesus when Zechariah sang his song, but his lyrics reflect the Redemption story that Jesus would fulfill as Emmanuel, God with us. Charles Wesley picks up this same theme, rejoicing over Christ’s birth and His imminent return.

In fact, that’s exactly the point! We aren’t celebrating Christmas as much as we are celebrating Advent. Jesus was born “when the time had fully come” for His First Advent (Galatians 4:4-5), and “this same Jesus, Who has been taken from you into Heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen Him go into Heaven” (Acts 1:11). That’s the message that should encourage us (see 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18).

Check out the remarkable parallels between the Benedictus and Wesley’s hymn—

Come Thou Long-Expected Jesus & Benedictus

If you’d like to download a PDF of this side-by-side comparison, here it is → Come Thou Long-Expected Jesus & Benedictus ←

If you’ve missed any of the messages in this series, you may check them out by clicking here.

Poetry Saturday—Saint Paul

F.W.H. MyersOh, could I tell, ye surely would believe it!
   Oh, could I only say what I have seen!
How should I tell, or how can ye receive it,
   How, till He bringeth you where I have been?

Therefore, O Lord, I will not fail nor falter;
   Nay but I ask it, nay but I desire,
Lay on my lips thine embers of the altar,
   Seal with the ring, and furnish with the fire.

Give me a voice, a cry, and a complaining,—
   Oh, let my sound be stormy in their ears!
Throat that would shout, but cannot stay for straining,
   Eyes that would weep, but cannot wait for tears.

Quick, in a moment, infinite forever,
   Send an arousal better than I pray;
Give me a grace upon the faint endeavor,
   Souls for my hire, and Pentecost today!

Scarcely I catch the words of His revealing,
   Hardly I hear Him, dimly understand;
Only the Power that is within me pealing
   Lives on my lips, and beckons with my hand.

Whoso has felt the Spirit of the Highest,
   Cannot confound, nor doubt Him, nor deny;
Yea, with one voice, O world, though thou deniest,
   Stand thou on that side, for on this am I. —F.W.H. Myers

 

Poetry Saturday—Moment By Moment

It was during the great World’s Fair evangelistic campaign. Dwight Moody and his workers were gathered at the close of the day, as their custom was, in the evangelist’s room, for a word of prayer together. The hymn I Need Thee Every Hour had been selected. When they finished singing, Henry Varley, the English evangelist, said: “I’m not sure that I can subscribe heartily to that sentiment. I feel that I need Christ moment by moment.” That thought impressed Major D.W. Whittle, and after the prayer meeting he went to his room, and, prompted by the Holy Spirit, he wrote and rewrote and wrote again until 2 o’clock in the morning when he completed his song Moment By Moment.

Major D.W. WhittleDying with Jesus, by death reckoned mine,
Living with Jesus a new life divine,
Looking to Jesus ‘til glory doth shine,—
Moment by moment, O Lord, I am Thine.

Moment by moment I’m kept in His love,
Moment by moment I’ve life from above;
Looking to Jesus ‘till glory doth shine.
Moment by moment, O Lord, I am Thine.

Never a trial that He is not there,
Never a burden that He doth not bear,
Never a sorrow that He doth not share,—
Moment by moment, I’m under His care.

Never a heartache and never a groan,
Never a teardrop and never a moan;
Never a danger, but there on the throne,
Moment by moment, He thinks of His own.

Never a weakness that He doth not feel,
Never a sickness that He cannot heal;
Moment by moment, in woe or in weal,
Jesus, my Savior, abides with me still. —Major D.W. Whittle

 

Poetry Saturday—My Strength Is Gone

Charles WesleyMy strength is gone, my nature dies;
I sink beneath Thy weighty hand;
Faint to revive, and fall to rise:
I fall, and yet by faith I stand.
I stand, and will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know.
Lame as I am, I take the prey;
Hell, earth, and sin, with ease o’ercome;
I leap for joy, pursue my way,
And as a bounding hart fly home,
Through all eternity to prove,
Thy Nature and Thy Name is love. — Charles Wesley, on what he conceived to be Jacob’s prayer as he wrestled with God (see Genesis 32:22-30)

Poetry Saturday—There Is A Safe & Secret Place

Henry Francis LyteThere is a safe and secret place,
Beneath the wings Divine,
Reserved for all the heirs of grace;
O be that refuge mine!

The least and feeblest there may bide,
Uninjured and unawed;
While thousands fall on every side
He rests secure in God.

He feeds in pastures, large and fair,
Of love and truth Divine;
O child of God, O glory’s heir,
How rich a lot is thine.

A hand almighty to defend,
An ear for every call,
An honored life, a peaceful end,
And heaven to crown it all! —Henry Francis Lyte

 

Poetry Saturday—Valiant For Truth

John BunyanWho would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather;
There’s no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.
Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories.
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright.
He’ll with a giant fight.
But he will have a right
To be a pilgrim.
Hobgoblin nor foul fiend
Can daunt his spirit;
He knows he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away,
He’ll fear not what men say;
He’ll labour night and day
To be a pilgrim. —Mr. Valiant-for-truth in John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress