Christ is Risen!


Be Poets of the Logos!

Sarx (σαρξ) is the Greek word for "flesh". This is the blog of a Southern Man (sojourning in Buffalo, NY) attempting to follow God in the way of Jesus.

NB: I'm currently on a "Blogging Sabbatical" to celebrate my 15th Year of online Journaling. While "Daily Tweets", the occasional review of a book, movie or eatery and Photo Blogging all continue, the daily posts have stopped until January 2011. All comments are currently in moderation.

You can email me at "arkouda" at this domain.


Please buy me books from my Consumptionmas Wish List

Disclaimer

I who have written this story, or rather this fable, give no credence to the various incidents related in it. For some things in it are the deceptions of demons, other poetic figments; some are probable, others improbable; while still others are intended for the delectation of foolish men. (Closing lines of the Táin Bó Cúalnge)

Odd time for a revival

Whilst chatting in a chat room, someone mentioned “What a friend we have in Jesus” and my mind instantly went to this hymn. The music and story are here but it was the words that got me tonight, as I sang along.

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word!
What more can He say than to you He hath said,
You, who unto Jesus for refuge have fled?

In every condition, in sickness, in health;
In poverty’s vale, or abounding in wealth;
At home and abroad, on the land, on the sea,
As thy days may demand, shall thy strength ever be.

Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid;
I’ll strengthen and help thee, and cause thee to stand
Upheld by My righteous, omnipotent hand.

When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow;
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

When through fiery trials thy pathways shall lie,
My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply;
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine.

Even down to old age all My people shall prove
My sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love;
And when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn,
Like lambs they shall still in My bosom be borne.

The soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose,
I will not, I will not desert to its foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.

Comments are closed.