Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Redeeming Love

I grew up on the hymns of the church.   I loved them then and I love them still.   I was the little girl in the church pew singing with all my heart, "Years I spent in vanity and pride!"  I didn't know then that those years weren't behind me.   Saved young, yes, but I still had a full life ahead of me to sin against my Savior.  
"There is A Fountain Filled With Blood," written by William Cowper, is a hymn that I have yet to upload to Youtube.   The imagery is so strong in the lyrics that I'm not sure I could do it justice.   I do pray, however,  that, "Redeeming love shall be my theme, and shall be and shall be till I die."  Thank you, Lamb of God.

There Is A Fountain Filled With Blood
There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.
Lose all their guilty stains, lose all their guilty stains;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.
The dying thief rejoiced to see that fountain in his day;
And there have I, though vile as he, washed all my sins away.
Washed all my sins away, washed all my sins away;
And there have I, though vile as he, washed all my sins away.
Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood shall never lose its power
Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.
Be saved, to sin no more, be saved, to sin no more;
Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.
E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
And shall be till I die, and shall be till I die;
Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.
Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save,
I’ll sing Thy power to save,I’ll sing Thy power to save,
Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save,
Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared, unworthy though I be,
For me a blood bought free reward, a golden harp for me!
’Tis strung and tuned for endless years, and formed by power divine,
To sound in God the Father’s ears no other name but Thine.

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