Another post about the park
This is my Father’s world,
and to my listening ears
All nature sings,
and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world:
I rest me in the thought Of rocks and trees,
of skies and seas;
His hand the wonders wrought.
This is my Father’s world,
the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white,
declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world:
He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;
He speaks to me everywhere.
This is my Father’s world.
O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world:
the battle is not done:
Jesus Who died shall be satisfied,
And earth and Heav’n be one.
This is my Father’s world,
dreaming, I see His face.
I ope my eyes,
and in glad surprise cry,
“The Lord is in this place.”
This is my Father’s world,
from the shining courts above,
The Beloved One, His Only Son,
Came—a pledge of deathless love.
This is my Father’s world,
should my heart be ever sad?
The lord is King—let the heavens ring.
God reigns—let the earth be glad.
This is my Father’s world.
Now closer to Heaven bound,
For dear to God is the earth Christ trod.
No place but is holy ground.
This is my Father’s world.
I walk a desert lone.
In a bush ablaze to my wondering gaze
God makes His glory known.
This is my Father’s world,
a wanderer I may roam
Whate’er my lot, it matters not,
My heart is still at home.
I know Nic put this song up a few weeks ago, but I forgot until reading through the words this morning. I love the line he used as the title of his post. I used to have this on a tape of Brentwood Jazz, a Christian jazz ensemble, and I sing the phrases I remember while I have been walking the dogs this week in Warner park. To read the song in its entirety has been devotional to say the least.I have so enjoyed the solitude, which there is not a lot of in my life with work and church demands. I think I will take the camera today to get some photos of the park.
and to my listening ears
All nature sings,
and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world:
I rest me in the thought Of rocks and trees,
of skies and seas;
His hand the wonders wrought.
This is my Father’s world,
the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white,
declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world:
He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;
He speaks to me everywhere.
This is my Father’s world.
O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world:
the battle is not done:
Jesus Who died shall be satisfied,
And earth and Heav’n be one.
This is my Father’s world,
dreaming, I see His face.
I ope my eyes,
and in glad surprise cry,
“The Lord is in this place.”
This is my Father’s world,
from the shining courts above,
The Beloved One, His Only Son,
Came—a pledge of deathless love.
This is my Father’s world,
should my heart be ever sad?
The lord is King—let the heavens ring.
God reigns—let the earth be glad.
This is my Father’s world.
Now closer to Heaven bound,
For dear to God is the earth Christ trod.
No place but is holy ground.
This is my Father’s world.
I walk a desert lone.
In a bush ablaze to my wondering gaze
God makes His glory known.
This is my Father’s world,
a wanderer I may roam
Whate’er my lot, it matters not,
My heart is still at home.
I know Nic put this song up a few weeks ago, but I forgot until reading through the words this morning. I love the line he used as the title of his post. I used to have this on a tape of Brentwood Jazz, a Christian jazz ensemble, and I sing the phrases I remember while I have been walking the dogs this week in Warner park. To read the song in its entirety has been devotional to say the least.I have so enjoyed the solitude, which there is not a lot of in my life with work and church demands. I think I will take the camera today to get some photos of the park.
this poetry (song, revelation) is a declaration of rebellion to the structures (matrix, ways) of the world. It is a denial of all that the man tries to tell you what is. It is a new (creational, hopeful) ontology.
But more so it is hymn #144 in the Methodist Hymnal. I was raised in the Methodist Church, and although I was not aware at the time this is one of those redundant hyms that I sang every week after apathetically reciting the apostle's creed. i heard this again driving with josh last month to pick up his guitar, needless to say my life has taken a different turn and the things of the past have been redeemed. the mindless heartless songs of my youth have now been revealed as prevenient and full of grace. as i told josh that day in the car in some ways i find the grace and moving of the Spirit satisfied in the re-presentation of those things that i so quicly passed over in my early life.