I know the Lord is nigh,
And would but cannot pray,
For Satan meets me when I try,
And frights my soul away,
And frights my soul away.
I would but can’t repent,
Though I endeavor oft;
This stony heart can ne’er relent
Till Jesus makes it soft,
Till Jesus makes it soft.
Help my unbelief.
Help my unbelief.
Help my unbelief.
My help must come from Thee.
I would but cannot love,
Though wooed by love divine;
No arguments have power to move
A soul as base as mine.
A soul so base as mine.
I would but cannot rest,
In God’s most holy will;
I know what He appoints is best,
And murmur at it still.
I murmur at it still.
Help my unbelief.
Help my unbelief.
Help my unbelief.
My help must come from Thee.
(Help My Unbelief. Taken from the Gadsby Hymnal #278. Words: John Newton, 1725-1807. Chorus and music by Clint Wells, 2005.)
–
Weary of earth, myself, and sin
Dear Jesus, set me free,
And to Thy glory take me in,
For there I long to be.
Let a poor laborer here below,
When from his toil set free;
To rest and peace eternal go;
For there I long to be.
Burdened, dejected and oppressed,
Ah! Whither shall I flee,
But to Thy arms for peace and rest?
For there I long to be.
Let a poor laborer here below,
When from his toil set free;
To rest and peace eternal go;
For there I long to be.
Empty, polluted, dark and vain,
Is all this world to me;
May I the better world obtain;
For there I long to be.
Let a poor laborer here below,
When from his toil set free;
To rest and peace eternal go;
For there I long to be.
(Weary of Earth, Myself and Sin, Taken from the Gadsby Hymnal #386. Words: Samuel Medley, 1738-1799. Music: Brian T. Murphy, 2005.)
A lesser-known verse (at least the second half) of What Child Is This . . .
Why lies He in such mean estate,
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christians, fear, for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spear shall pierce Him through,
The cross be borne for me, for you.
Hail, hail the Word made flesh,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
The contrast created by mentioning the graphic violence of Christ’s crucifixion in a Christmas carol is gravely stark, and hauntingly beautiful. Gloria patri et filio et spiritu sancto.
Old hymns with new tunes (usually) make me happy.
I’ve been listening to this hymn from Red Mountain Church’s Gadsby Project record quite a bit lately. The lyrics are incredible and the new tune and arrangement are near-perfect. This is what I wish more of “modern worship” looked and sounded like (thankfully, it actually does look and sound quite a bit like this where we worship on Sundays) . . .
Pensive, Doubting, Fearful Heart
(or: To the Afflicted, Tossed With Tempests and Not Comforted)
words: John Newton
Pensive, doubting, fearful heart,
Hear what Christ the Saviour says;
Every word should joy impart,
Change thy mourning into praise:
Yes, he speaks, and speaks to thee,
May he help thee to believe!
Then thou presently will see,
Thou hast little cause to grieve.
Fear thou not, nor be ashamed,
All thy sorrows soon shall end
I who heav’n and earth have framed,
Am thy husband and thy friend
I the High and Holy One,
Israel’s God by all adored;
As thy Saviour will be known,
Thy Redeemer and thy Lord.
For a moment I withdrew,
And thy heart was filled with pain;
But my mercies I’ll renew,
Thou shalt soon rejoice again:
Though I seem to hide my face,
Very soon my wrath shall cease;
‘Tis but for a moment’s space,
Ending in eternal peace.
Though afflicted, tempest-tossed,
Comfortless awhile thou art,
Do not think thou canst be lost,
Thou art graven on my heart
All thy wastes I will repair,
Thou shalt be rebuilt anew;
And in thee it shall appear,
What the God of love can do.
To listen to a long clip (nearly half the song), click here.
