Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Sadness to Hope

I woke early this morning with the words of a hymn running through my head. I cannot remember when I last heard or sang this but I have had conversations about some of these concepts this week - as recently as last night.  The mind is a mysterious and beautiful link to the soul and a gateway to the Spirit.

Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of
mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
mount of thy
redeeming love.

Here I raise mine Ebenezer*;
hither by thy help I'm come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.

O to
grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here's my heart, O take and
seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.

Hymn: Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing
Text: Robert Robinson, 1735-1790
Music: Wyeth's Repository of Sacred Music, Part Second
Tune: NETTLETON, Meter: 87.87 D

I may cry at night, but joy comes in the morning.  God turns my mourning into dancing.

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