"The Lord is my song."--Psalm 118:14
A joyful spirit is a praiseful spirit; and our Living God, to whom our loftiest and sweetest praises gather, has said in His Word, "Whoever offers praise glorifies me." That there are so few joyful believers, shouts and testifies to the truth that ther are only few praiseful believers in the in the body of our Lord. Praise is one of the holiest of His graces, and is one of the most magnificent endeavers, of the believing soul.
With my whole heart have I sought Thee;
With my lips have I declared Thee;
I have rejoiced in Thy witness;
Meditated on Thy precepts, Delighted in Thy voice,
And praised Thy holy name.
I trust in Thy Word and hope in Thy judgements;
They are as a song on my pilgrimage.
Oh My soul, pluck your harp from the willow, where too long it has hung in silence, and, waking its sacred notes, praise your God for all providential mercies--for the blessings of this life--food and clothing, home and friends, His daily care and thought of you.
This very morning, as I awoke
From a generous, refreshing sleep;
A wondrous and rich stream
Of golden.......warm sunlight
From the lofty Throne of Divine Majesty
Sliced clean through to my inner soul;
A signal pledge of the presence of God.
For He inhabits the commonplace of earth,
And His vision can be seen in all things.
In the early stillness,
I know that He is near;
As I reverently, deliberately, and quietly,
Breathe-in His Countenance,
The unseen becomes visible;
And the Eternal, real.
Surely, as I abide, secure in His alcove,
In the heat of His pure, holy Fire,
I shall be kept pure, glowing, and intense.
Praise Him for sovereign calling, and His saving grace. Oh, my friends, if only we would fully realize what true sonship is, and that, we are now truly living sons of God; the very thought would kindle within our soul the deepest of thanksgivings, and wake our slumbering harps to the loudest praise!
The grace of purity,
And self - control;
Of fervent, effectual prayer,
And understanding in the Word;
Of love for our fellows,
And zeal for God;
Of lowliness and meekness,
Of gentleness and goodness:
All this, and more, is in Christ.
Therefore .......
If Christ be in us;
All is ours as well.
Oh that we would dare to believe it!
And learn to draw on it:
Letting down the pitcher of faith,
Into the deep, untroubled well
Of our Lord's indwelling love;
Opened within us
By the Spirit,
Of the Living God.
Wake-up your harp, oh my soul, to the high praise of Christ's power, faithfulness, and love. Sing, and rejoice, that we are, even now: "Kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation."
As we walk;
With lowly guise
And reverent heart;
There comes,
By sweet consent;
The surrender of the will,
In the presence of
A pure and absorbing Love;
Brought close within,
By a life ablaze,
With the sacred glow
Of His everlasting glory.
The Lord, too, is our song of comfort and consolation, in all of our pathways, we have traveled through many dark and stormy vistas; but our consolations, my friends, when we take the time to recollect, have been neither few nor small. The God of all comfort has never deserted us, the Consolation of Israel has never failed us, , the Comforter, has ever stood by to soothe, soften, and heal our wounds with the wine and the oil of divine grace and sympathy -- both flowing from the blood of Yeshua.
Morning by morning,
Comes the sunrise;
With Thy tender glories,
In its warm rosy light,
And the blushing heavens:
As heavy eyes open,
To behold Thy face
In all righteousness;
My whole heart sings:
For when I awake,
I am still with Thee !
Then, uplift your praises with every morning's light and evening's shadow. Praise Him with a new song for every new blessing. Praise Him for everything; for the cloud that shades, for the beam that brightens, for the mercies given, for the mercies withheld; for all He removes, for all He bestows. Praise Him for every affliction He sends, for every cross He appoints, for every sorrow He mingles, for every temptation He permits. Praise Him for present sickness and suffering, bereavement and loss; for His blessing is in it all, and all demands our grateful, joyful praise. Oh,my friends, cultivate a thankful, praiseful spirit. It will hearten many a lonely path; sweeten many a bitter trial; and lighten your heavy load along life's weary, dusty road, home to God. Soon the praises of earth will be exchanged for the higher, holier, and more lasting praises of heaven. And then will come the "new song" of glory, honor, and thanksgiving unto Him who sits upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, forever and ever.
The branches;
Wondrous and intricate,
In their multitude;
Are united,
And made one
In the Vine:
That Blood,
Which ascends
From the Root;
Refreshes every leaf,
And freely brings
Bloom, and savor,
Into every cluster
Heavenly Father, let me dwell
In unbroken contact with Thee,
Let Thy tides of divine Energy
Flow freely into and through
My humble yet eager spirit,
Awaken my slumbering soul,
And pierce my willing heart.
Amen.
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