My God this Night

All praise to you my God this night;
Beneath Your own wings;
For all your blessings of Your Light;
Until I live with You my King.

Forgive me God for Your dear Son:
The world, the Pharisees, and me;
The ills that I have this day have done,
You bled for me so Your peace may be.

Teach me to live, my Exalted Head!
Teach me to die so I may lay
In my grave as little as my bed;
Rising at the Judgement day.

When in the night I sleeplessly lie;
Let no ill dreams disturb my rest;
Nor, my soul with fearsome thoughts supply;
Nor, powers of darkness will molest.

Oh when shall I, in endless days,
With hymns divine with angels sing
Forever chase dark sleep away
While praising You Eternal King?

You chose to climb the hill and not turn back

'Father, not My will, but Yours be done,' You said
then climbed the hill to the cross Your blood to shed.
There You chose to bear my pain and wear my shame
even though You were innocent and not to blame.

A load much heavier than the cross You bore,
piercing deeper than the crown of thorns You wore.
You were smitten of God and forsaken too
when my sin came between the Father and You.

There lash by lash the price for each sin You paid
as all my guilt and shame upon You was laid.
Then, 'It is finished,' in victory You cried
as You bowed Your head upon the cross and died.

Deep waves of love and mercy flowed from the cross,
and Your blood was poured out my sins to wash.
They're now gone as far as the East is from the West
and I stand forgiven and forever blessed.

Because You hung there, Lord Jesus, in my stead.
Because Your blood upon the altar was shed.
Because of You, Lord Jesus, I now go free.
Because You chose the road to Calvary.

A TINY PUZZLE PIECE

A TINY PUZZLE PIECE

I am a tiny puzzle piece
Jagged edges all around
Is there a place for me?
And can that place be found?

I am a tiny puzzle piece
No power of my own
Amidst so many others
My place must be shown

I am a tiny puzzle piece
No one knows just where I go
Size and shape so unique
So only God will know

I am a tiny puzzle piece
It looks like I’ll place last
So many others precede me
I must remain steadfast

The Lord has a special place
Which only I can fill
So, I wait patiently
According to God’s will

I WAS a tiny puzzle piece
God’s masterpiece now complete
It’s beauty beyond compare
And my reward so sweet!

Going Fishing

Going to that secret spot
Where fishes are but fishers not
So excited, worms are wriggling
Par for course when going fishing

Round the bend toward the river
Jolly joints begin to quiver
at the sound of fisher whistling
In my secret spot for fishing!

What on earth could be the cause
To make this fisher drop my jaws?
Drops his line where mine is missing
In secret spot for going fishing

Turns out my sacred secret place
Welcomes quite a rapid pace
Of other avid fishers wishing
for a secret spot of fishing

What’s a fisherman to do?
Can secret spots for one hold two?
Crowded limbs in water swishing,
Now behold, two fishers fishing!

I cast my line and set my rod
And start to talk about my God
Caught for all my Gospel dishing?
Fisherman who went out fishing!

Behold, the Man

He hung each star and planet -- now hangs on splintered wood
He washed the feet of others -- now His are bathed in blood
He called Himself, Good Shepherd -- this sacrificial Lamb
Behold, this Jewish drifter -- was Israel’s great I AM

Condemned to die, yet blameless -- convicted on a whim
He cured the blind with spittle -- but now they spit on Him
Was called a friend of sinners -- on either side, a thief
Behold, the Man of Sorrows -- acquainted with much grief

The One who healed so many -- can’t move His hands or feet
He offered life eternal -- but dies now in the heat
The Son of God Almighty -- though He was virgin-born
Behold, the Rose of Sharon -- now wears a crown of thorns

Valued Full Price

He was the “Son of a carpenter,"
And His father taught Him to see
The value of a wooden block
That seems worthless to you or to me.

Daily the carpenter cut to refine
Using his sharp-edged knife,
Making of wood block a master design,
And bringing it detail and life.

So He carves it by hand
And values the wood block full price.

In just the same way, the carpenter's Son
Finds value in each earthen soul.
He stoops to betake us-- a great work to make us,
And brings our short lives to their whole.

Stripping the worthless from life's wooden lump
Is the task of the cold, sharpened tool.
God Himself loves us, proven well as He trims us,
Though we fear that His shaping is cruel.

So He shapes us by hand
And values His wood block full price.

For life's little block has no value at all
Without the deep cut of the knife.
And while He must break us, our Carpenter makes us
His masterpiece, valued full price.

The Blessing

Jesus Christ, our only Savior;
Suffering pains no tongue can tell;
Turning away God's wrath forever;
Saving His saints from the pains of hell.

To remind us and to save us;
With His life, the quickening flood;
His flesh that He then gave us;
With His wine -His precious blood.

Praise the Father, God in Heaven;
Who gave over to death His Son;
To pay and to defend us
From our misdeeds we do and have done.

Christ calls to the heavy-laden;
Those not yet strong,or not yet well;
He'll make the weary hearts gladden;
Despise the best physician's skill.

No one can earn their own salvation;
Or this feast that is spread for me;
Useless is my own death and passion;
Unless my Holy Helper it is He.

If you believe this Gospel truly;
Then as a welcome Guest you'll be;
All your confessions He makes holy;
While His Feast is spread for me.