Archive for March 4th, 2009

Thank God for being the Being


                    where all beings began. – eab, 2/09

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It’s a wonderful thing to know

In this journey here below,

          He loves me, He loves me.

Now I have no worries or frets,

He forgives and forgets,

          He loves me, He loves me.

He sees the sparrow when it falls,

Hears the saint every time he calls.

The very hairs of your head have numbers,

He never sleeps, and He never slumbers.  – eab, ’72 FEB

Written in the Akron/Barberton Ohio area while driving to or from a Bible class I taught 1-2 afternoons a week at Barberton Rescue mission.

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Tell me the stories of Jesus I love to hear;
Things I would ask Him to tell me if He were here;
Scenes by the wayside, tales of the sea,
Stories of Jesus, tell them to me.

First let me hear how the children stood round His knee,
And I shall fancy His blessing resting on me;
Words full of kindness, deeds full of grace,
All in the love light of Jesus’ face.

Tell me, in accents of wonder, how rolled the sea,
Tossing the boat in a tempest on Galilee;
And how the Maker, ready and kind,
Chided the billows, and hushed the wind.

Into the city I’d follow the children’s band,
Waving a branch of the palm tree high in my hand.
One of His heralds, yes, I would sing
Loudest hosannas, “Jesus is King!”

Show me that scene in the garden, of bitter pain.
Show me the cross where my Savior for me was slain.
Sad ones or bright ones, so that they be
Stories of Jesus, tell them to me.

William Henry Parker was born this date (3/4/1845) in New Basford, Nottingham, England.  He worked as a construction worker.  Later he headed up an insurance company.  He was active in the Chelsea Baptist Church where he wrote a number of Sunday School songs. 

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