1 Quiet, Lord, my froward heart; Make me teachable and mild, Upright, simple, free from art; Make me as a weaned child, From distrust and envy free, Pleased with all that pleases Thee.
2 What Thou shalt to-day provide Let me as a child receive; What to-morrow may betide Calmly to Thy wisdom leave: 'Tis enough that Thou wilt care; Why should I the burden bear?
3 As a little child relies On a care beyond his own, Knows he's neither strong nor wise, Fears to stir a step alone,-- Let me thus with Thee abide, As my Father, Guard, and Guide.
4 Thus preserved from Satan's wiles, Safe from dangers, free from fears, May I live upon Thy smiles Till the promised hour appears, When the sons of God shall prove All their Father's boundless love.
Yes sir! I memorized chapter 8 and 12 on their own, but then decided that I should just do the whole book. I have learned those two plus 1-5. Haven't mastered any of it yet. I still have a long way to go!
Yes sir! I memorized chapter 8 and 12 on their own, but then decided that I should just do the whole book. I have learned those two plus 1-5. Haven't mastered any of it yet. I still have a long way to go!
1 He holds the key of all unknown, And I am glad; If other hands should hold the key, Or, if He trusted it to me, I might be sad, I might be sad. 2 What if tomorrow's cares were here Without its rest? I'd rather He unlocked the day And as the hours swing open say, “My will is best,” “My will is best.” 3 The very dimness of my sight Makes me secure; For, groping in my misty way, I feel His hand; I hear Him say, “My help is sure,” “My help is sure.” 4 I cannot read His future plans, But this I know; I have the smiling of His face, And all the refuge of His grace, While here below, While here below. 5 Enough; this covers all my wants, And so I rest; For, what I cannot, He can see, And in His care I safe shall be, Forever blest, Forever blest.
1 O little flock, fear not the foe Who madly seeks your overthrow; Dread not his rage and pow'r. And though your courage sometimes faints, His seeming triumph o'er God's saints Lasts but a little hour.
2 Be of good cheer; your cause belongs To Him who can avenge your wrongs; Leave it to Him, our Lord. Though hidden yet from mortal eyes, His Gideon shall for you arise, Uphold you and His Word.
3 As true as God's own Word is true, Not earth nor hell's satanic crew Against us shall prevail. Their might? A joke, a mere facade! God is with us and we with God— Our vict'ry cannot fail.
4 Amen, Lord Jesus, grant our prayer; Great Captain, now Thine arm make bare, Fight for us once again! So shall Thy saints and martyrs raise A mighty chorus to Thy praise Forevermore. Amen.
A hymn by Michael Altenburg. A good one when the soul is thirsty for hope. Though a children's song, I am always comforted by, "Little ones to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong." Are we not all little in God's eyes? Yet He graciously gives us His strength in time of need.