A vehicle for venting on philosophy, religion, and the general state of things. Proprietor: C. W. Powell

Tuesday, November 06, 2012

A Soldier of the Cross

Heavenly Father. Some demons do not go out except by fasting and prayer.
We are spiritually ignorant and weak, O Father, and have not laid hold on
Thy strength.

Our repentance has not reached into our souls, O Father, and we imagine
that overcoming the world is a matter of simplicity and not the great labor
of faith. In our prosperity we imagine that we can never be moved, but our
enemies are in our own bosom and among our friends.

But we cry unto you, Our Father, for what profit is there in the destruction
of Thy church and the blood of Thy saints. We have sought our own
righteousness and have despised you and your holiness.

Forgive, O Lord, our trespasses, and turn our sorrow into rejoicing and our
tears to joy and gladness, so that our tongues may sing praise to thee, and
not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee for ever.

2 O LORD my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me.
3 O LORD, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou
      hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit.
4 Sing unto the LORD, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at
      the remembrance of his holiness.
5 For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping
      may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.

Psalm 30

Am I a soldier of the cross,
A follower of the Lamb?
And shall I fear to own His cause
Or blush to speak His name?

Must I be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease?
While others fought to win the prize,
And sailed through bloody seas?

Are there no foes for me to face?
Must I not stem the flood?
Is this vile world a friend to grace,
To help me on to God?

Sure I must fight, if I would reign
Increase my courage, Lord!
I'll bear the toil, endure the pain,
Supported by Thy word.

Thy saints, in all this glorious war,
Shall conquer, though they die;
They view the triumph from afar,
And seize it with their eye.

When that illustrious day shall rise,
And all Thy armies shine
In robes of victory through the skies,
The glory shall be Thine.

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