To God be the Glory

To God be the Glory,

great things He is doing..

He won't let me go..

My faith is renewing!

Though I walk in the valley,

with my light still so dim,

I still have assurance

I'm walking with Him!

Take My Hand

Take My hand, child I adore..
I'll bear your burdens once again.
And if there be a thousand more
I'll cleanse the burden of every sin.

Though you're made of dust and dirt,
my loving-kindness will never die-
whatever the pain or grief or hurt,
whenever you fail or fall or cry..

Take my hand, O child of mine,
walk again in the garden with Me-
leave the sins of the past behind,
be the person I meant you to be.

He Speaks to me

He speaks to me
in metaphors,
on sandy shores,
through open doors.

It's not in words
I hear as such..
It's more, or much,
a heartfelt touch.

He speaks to me-
I know not why.
How often I cry,
as He passes by.

I feel His hand,
His touch within,
and know I've been
with Him again.

He speaks to me
in His holy Word,
both read and heard-
my soul is stirred.

Ancient words
that ring so true.
With a different view,
all things are new.

He speaks to me
with a metaphor
I cannot ignore,
what I adore-

His still small voice
in my heart, rejoice!

He speaks to me.

Watching and Waiting

When he returned to them again,
He found them sleeping where they lay.
They could not wait and watch with Him,
and knew not what to say.

When our Dear Lord returns for us
will we be found in such a state?
Will lack of prayer bring His disgust
or will we watch and wait?

Dear Jesus, help me stay awake
to pray with you both day and night.
Please let the path I daily take
lead to Your holy light.

More than a Poem

My feeble attempts to live this life
are full of sin and stress and strife.

It seems the harder I try to win,
the sooner I fail and begin again.

Yet greater still, as I hear Him call,
is His love for me that conquers all.

So though I fail and at times rebel,
He loves more than a poem can tell.

Wants

When no one wants me,
I pray I'll still want You.
May I ignore the evil past,
and not desire the new.

For I only want Your will
in the things I say and do,
but most of all Dear Savior,
how I want to be near You.

Thy Lovingkindness

Not always is the path easy;
  There are thickets hung with gloom,
There are rough and stony places
  Where never the roses bloom.
But oft, when the way is hardest,
  I'm conscious of One at my side
Whose hands and feet are wounded,
  And so I feel safe with my Guide.

Better than friends and kindred,
  Better than love and rest,
Dearer than hope and triumph,
  Is the Name I wear on my breast.
I feel my way through the shadows
  With a confident heart and brave;
I shall live in the light beyond them;
  I shall conquer death and the grave.

Often when tried and tempted,
  Often, ashamed of sin-
Though sin, as an armed invader,
  Has wrecked the peace within.
That wonderful Lovingkindness,
  Patient and full and free,
Then stoops for my consolation;
  And brings a blessing to me.

Therefore my lips shall praise Thee,
  Therefore, let come what may,
To the height of a solemn gladness
  My song shall arise today.
Not on the drooping willow
  Shall I hang my harp in the land..
The Lord himself has cheered me
  By the touch of His pierced hand.

Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
(edited)