Low in the grave He lay, Jesus, my Saviour; Waiting the coming day, Jesus, my Lord. Up from the grave He arose, With a mighty triumph o’er His foes! He arose a victor from the dark domain And He lives forever with His saints to reign; He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose! Vainly they
Now it is Easter week, when we truly contemplate all that the cross of Christ can mean. When I survey the wondrous cross On which the Prince of Glory died, My richest gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all my pride. Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast Save in the death
I’m in my 80th year and am a retired Salvation Army officer/pastor. My wife and I served for 31 years in corps/churches, divisional and territorial appointments, and loved every minute of it. In moments of idleness, and there are many these days, I’ve been thinking of all the changes I have seen and experienced in
As we approach Eastertime, let’s consider drawing nearer to the cross of Jesus, as suggested in this hymn. I am Thine, O Lord; I have heard Thy voice, And it told Thy love to me; But I long to rise in the arms of faith And be closer drawn to Thee. Draw me nearer, nearer,
Baking bread is one of the least things I enjoy doing or I should say, the preparations for making bread–the mixing and especially the kneading (ugh). Nevertheless, I find myself up to my elbows in flour at least once or twice a year, particularly when special people come to visit. By “special” I refer to
I was sinking deep in sin, far from the peaceful shore, Very deeply stained within, sinking to rise no more; But the Master of the sea heard my despairing cry, From the waters lifted me; now safe am I. Love lifted me, love lifted me; When no one but Christ could help, Love lifted me!
