Desperate Need (I John 3:19-24)

How desperately I need Thee, Lord,
To guard me and to feed me,
And nurtured by Thy holy word,
With blessing when I heed Thee.
But I could never feel Thee, Lord,
With flesh since Thou art spirit.
Thy mighty hand I can not see,
I can not taste or hear it.

How desperately I need thee, Lord,
I can not even seek Thee,
I cannot see, but Thou canst see,
To comfort and release me.
Assurance comes from Thee, my Lord,
And through Thy power only,
I know I’m thine for Thou hast claimed,
To mold me to Thy glory.

How desperately I need Thee, Lord,
In weakness I have sought Thee,
My prayer for deliverance,
From vile vice that fought me.
And Thou hast heard my prayer, Lord,
And so I know Thou savest,
And with Thy will my soul sustained,
Relationship Thou gavest.

How desperately I need Thee, Lord,
And Thou in me abidest,
That in Thy power I may live,
Thy Spirit then to ride with.
And Thou hast made Thy home in me,
And with Thy scripture fed me,
Thy Law and Spirit filling me,
And promise yet to wed me!

Matthew 8-9: Healing

Behold the winter withers soon,
For see, the herald flower blooms,
To show the rebirth to ensue,
The harbinger of God’s redemption.

The advent of His coming grace,
When He appeared here, face to face,
He healed the captive and abased,
Those in the curse of sin’s affliction.

For He had come to heal the sick:
The blind and filthy in their sin,
Who had the faith to call to Him,
Through them rebuking man’s dissension.

He healed with His authority,
The King of earth and sky and sea,
But full of human empathy,
And touching people in compassion.

He healed then to restore the lost,
And to restore from sinning’s cost,
The reason, too, He took His cross:
The bonds of sinful curse unfashion.

For He has born our grief and pain,
To kill the curse was why He came,
Restoring sinners in His name,
To consummate in full redemption!

James 1:1-4: “Count It All Joy!”

In trials, anxious and distressed,
Though painful in the time,
The trials in the mind and flesh,
For purity designed,
With grief and sorrow full possessed,
Yet joy is called to mind.

Though persecuted or alone,
In poverty or thirst,
In unexpected troubles blown,
Yet count it joy from first,
Rejoicing then for sorrow sown,
For patience it will birth.

The fire buns away the dross,
And kindles stronger faith,
Then happy in our greatest loss,
For we gain when we wait,
And patience brings its perfect gloss,
In pain we celebrate.

Oh, Lord, then bring us back to Thee,
For Thou designed this pain,
And bring me to Thy purity,
Thy presence then to gain,
The catalyst of sanctity,
Thy grace will yet remain.