Song Thread

[IrishAngel]

The Joyfulest Noise
By Ed Price
©2001 Ed Price
When I was a boy, and our family attended Bethany Methodist Church in Pine Orchard, Maryland, there was one elderly woman in the congregation who always sang the hymns louder than anyone else. Unfortunately, she couldn't carry a tune to the grocery store. But Mrs. Murphy was so saturated with the Spirit that she didn't care what people thought of her singing. She was praising God, and that was all that mattered.

But there were others in the congregation that did care about Mrs. Murphy's loud singing. They told the preacher that the woman distracted them. They couldn't hear themselves sing a tune. One member of the congregation even went so far as to suggest that the preacher talk to the woman and ask her to tone it down a bit.

The preacher thought about this. He prayed about it.

The next Sunday, the preacher strode to the pulpit. We had just sung "Holy, Holy, Holy" and, as usual, Mrs. Murphy had drowned out everyone with her lusty, off-key rendering.

Our preacher paused for a moment and regarded the congregation with steely eyes. A smile curled the corners of his mouth. Then he said, "I have an important announcement to make. It's about the hymn singing in this church."

He paused again for effect as members of the congregation looked at each other in anticipation. The preacher leaned across the pulpit and continued. "I've noticed that the singing around here is pretty anemic -- more mumbling than singing. It's a wonder that God doesn't have to cup His ear to hear you. So I've made a decision. What we need is a song leader with gusto and I think that I have just the person for the job."

He paused again. Now the anticipation of the congregation had turned to expectation. The members agreed with the preacher. They were long overdue for a real song leader. Maybe, they thought, such a person might curb Mrs. Murphy's ill-advised attempts at melody.

"The person that I have chosen," the preacher continued, "is Mrs. Doris Murphy." He held out his hand. "Stand up, Mrs. Murphy, so that everyone can see you." Then he grinned. "They've already heard you."

Mrs. Murphy slowly stood, a broad smile lighting up her old wrinkled face. "Thank you, Pastor," she said. Then she looked over the stunned congregation. "I hope I can help you all sing louder praises to our blessed Lord. I know that some of you have cats who can howl better than I can sing, but that don't matter none. I reckon from now on I'm goin' to holler as loud as I can in front of you. So if you're not likin' the joyful noise that I'm a-makin', you should try to drown me out. Then maybe God won't have to turn up his hearin' aid to hear us a-singin'."

For several years after, Mrs. Murphy led the singing in our church. And many of the congregation took her at her word. They really did try to drown her out. But, as the Lord could not help but notice, they never quite succeeded.

Sing aloud unto God our strength: make a joyful noise unto the God of Jacob. (Psalm 81:1 KJV)

[IrishAngel]

Here Pause, My Soul!
"Review of my Pilgrimage".

Here pause my soul! And hither stay
To trace the wonders of the way
Through which I here on earth have trod,
Upheld and guided by my God!

Long time I lived, a child of sin,
What was my shame I gloried in,
Lies were my refuge and my trust,
My thoughts corrupt, a slave to lust.

Quite dead to all both wise and good,
An enemy to God I stood;
And Satan's ways I loved right well,
And blindly walked the way to hell.

So blind, so ignorant, so base,
I walked the hellward way apace,
While Satan oft his lies would tell,
And say, At last all will be well.

And when conviction fierce and strong
Would rise and tell me I was wrong;
Think not on this, would Satan say,
But leave it till another day.

'Tis time enough when older grown,
Whilst young leave all these things alone;
'Twill rob thee of thy peace an joy,
And all thy happiness destroy.

And oh! So blinded were my eyes
I took for truth all Satan's lies,
And bid my conscience be at ease
And cease henceforth my soul to tease.

But oh! When thus so far away
Infinite wisdom watched my way,
Upheld me when I stumbling fell
Well nigh the open jaws of hell.

Linked by that chain so closely wove,
The chain of everlasting love;
Though Satan tried, he tried in vain,
He ne'er could break that mighty chain.

This love mocked Satan's every scheme
By which he tried my soul to win,
Till last it entered deep my heart
And bade me Satan's ways depart.

Then what a change had taken place!
My heart was won by sovereign grace;
With open eyes I soon perceived
By Satan's lies I'd been deceived.

Neither was this alone the change,
Another thing to me seemed strange;
Satan, who feigned my friend before,
Began like thunder loud to roar.

Told me I'd gone so far in sin,
That Jesus would not take me in;
The door was shut, it was too late,
Nothing but hell could be my fate.

I said, This came not from above,
I cannot doubt my Saviour's love,
He would not lead me thus to see,
Had He not mercy stored for me.

* * * * * * *

From every foe He have me rest,
I sweetly nestled on His breast;
My peace did like a river flow,
'Twas heaven on earth while here below.

Thus on I went from day to day,
No thought or wish on earth to stay,
Waiting for Him to call me home,
To sit with Him upon His throne.

Oh! How I longed His face to see,
Who had in mercy rescued me
From wrath and tribulation's hour,
From hell and death and Satan's power.

And from that happy blissful hour,
The things of earth had lost their power;
Christ filled the vision of my soul,
And did my every thought control.

He was my theme, my joy, my song,
As day by day I passed along;
And more of Him I longed to know,
And more like Him I longed to grow.

All else I'd count but dung and dross,
And glory only in the cross;
All its offence I'd willing bear,
And joyfully its shame would wear.

Henceforth, my Lord would ever be
Power and strength to helpless me;
In Him alone I would possess
My wisdom and my righteousness.

My new-found joy could not be bound,
I spoke of Him to all around,
And longed that they might sharers be
Of that rich grace bestowed on me.

[Shylynne]

Gloria

from "Watermark"

 

I wish I could crash like the waves

Or turn like the autumn leaves

In effort to praise You

 

I wish I could smell like the forest

The fragrance lifting a mighty chorus

In effort to praise You

In effort to praise You

 

Chorus:

But I’m such a limited creature

And my word can only paint so many pictures

But somewhere I think I read that I am

Treasured over all creation

So I know that I must try

 

I wish I could roll like the thunder

To leave the earth below in wonder

In effort to praise You

 

I wish I could fall like the summer rain

And every drop would sing Your name

In effort to praise You

In effort to praise You

Every breath that I breathe

Every moment in my history

Is an effort to praise You

An effort to praise You

[sincereheart]

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Words: Horatio G. Spafford, 1873.
Music: Philip P. Bliss, 1876.

[Tibby]

Anyone ever heard Spafford's story? What was going on when he wrote that song?

[Willowbirch]

Thank you, Irish Angel, tiger, John, Revelation, Forrest...

I really like the Christmas hymns or carols.

"Joy to the World"...

Yeah, Joy to the World...I sing it all year...Its not only about the child born in Bethlehem, but the wonderful king who will return to earth...

I love "Take my Life and Let it be", but I get the verses mixed up.  

Excerpt of "And can it be":

Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
Fast bound in sin and nature's night.
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray;
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light!
My chains fell off, my heart was free.
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee!

[Shylynne]

Anyone ever heard Spafford's story? What was going on when he wrote that song?

I had never heard the story behind that song, thank you Tibby for noting that,  what wonderful faith the author had, very humbling!

"Spafford's wife, Anna Lawson Spafford, and their four daughters-Maggie, Tanetta, Annie, and Bessie-boarded an American ship named the S.S. Ville du Havre. Detained due to business, Mr. Spafford stayed behind but intended to follow his family in a few days.
On November 22, 1873, the S.S. Ville du Havre, sailing off the coast of Newfoundland, was struck by an English ship, the Lochearn. The Ville du Havre sank in twelve minutes. Two hundred and twenty-six lives were lost, including the Spaffords' four daughters. After hours of floating in the turbulent waters, Mrs. Spafford was rescued. Arriving in Wales, she cabled her husband with the message, "Saved alone."
Receiving the horrifying news, Spafford left immediately to join his wife. He asked the captain of the ship on which he was sailing to notify him when they approached the approximate area where the Ville du Havre went down. Notified that the area was near, Spafford went down into his cabin, and near the scene of his daughters' tragic deaths, penned the words of "When Peace Like a River," better known today as "It is Well with My Soul." The hymn refers to Romans 5:8, "But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

[sincereheart]

I love the song but the story always makes it even more meaningful!

Yesterday when we sang it, the Pastor highlighted the story again. I agree with Shylynne that it's humbling! With all of life's problems, mine has had none of the troubles of that magnitude!  

[Shylynne]

May It Be Well With Your Soul

by Perry G. Brackin

In this world it may not take one long to realize that problems and tragedies can appear on the scene rather unexpectedly. Suddenly and surprisingly, serious questions about God's presence and loving care can plague the mind. A Christian character is not revealed necessarily by the lack of nor quantity of problems or unfortunate circumstances which come (historical example and present experience illustrate that Christians are not immune).

Definitely, one's faith is challenged when terrible things happen. When one's world is shattered by sickness, death, broken relationships, or persecutions, the absence of answers can shake the foundations of the soul. The magnificent motifs of divine provision and protection which once adorned the corridors of the mind can suddenly appear defaced. Where is God? Where is his glory? Where is the good in all of this?

During this writer's personal struggles for answers and the return of the joyful heart, the silence became more endurable by listening to the saints behind and around him; by looking to the Son above him; and by learning from the Scroll before him. Some of the most wonderful inspiration came from hearing echoes of distant voices over their own unfortunate tragedies and letting their reverberations resonate in the soul.

The Spaffords returned to the United States and resumed their lives only to suffer further sorrow. In 1880, Scarlet Fever took the life of their only son. Receiving little sympathy from their friends upon his death, Mr. and Mrs. Spafford decided to move to Israel. In 1881, the Spafford couple along with two small daughters who had been born in the later 1870's moved to Jerusalem. There they were involved in an American colony which offered medical and spiritual help. Their ministry was fruitful, especially among the Arab communities. One of their daughters, Bertha was only three at this time. She was particularly creative and courageous. She lived a long active life in Israel, was known as a gifted writer and artist, and recorded the story of her father's trials and triumphs in a book titled Our Jerusalem.

Horatio Gates Spafford died in 1888 and was buried in the Protestant Cemetery on Mt. Zion. His soul was now at rest with the Lord, yet his misfortune had not ended. In one of the later wars between Israel and her Arab neighbors, angry Arab soldiers who were occupying Mt. Zion emptied some of the graves of the Protestant Cemetery. Thinking the graves were Jewish, they threw the remains into the Hinnon Valley below (New Testament Gehenna Valley). One of those graves belonged to Mr. Spafford. Ironically, thousands of Arab inhabitants of Jerusalem and the surrounding areas had been helped by the Spaffords and the Spafford Memorial Children's Hospital throughout the years.

When the war was over, the skeletal remains were placed back into the cemetery. An inability to identify the remains, however, resulted in a common grave for approximately six people. Today, if one walks outside the old city walls to the right of the Joppa Gate, up to the entrance of the Jerusalem University College, proceeds upon admittance through the courtyard to the Protestant Cemetery, a tall granite gravestone containing several names can be seen on the right just inside the cemetery. Horatio Gates Spafford's name is at the top of the list. Many folks have paused within this garden cemetery to remember the faith of Horatio Gates Spafford who suffered such disastrous circumstances, but whose life counted for God and others in spite of it all, because it was well with his soul.

May your heart receive new strength as you meditate upon the Lord of glory and learn from the tragic story of "It Is Well With My Soul."

[TigerLily]

This song has touched me more then i can ever even say, Its a Jeff and Sherri Easter song., sorry i dont know the actual album its on but its so woirth getting It has helped me thru many a trial.. music is one of the many ways God uses to touch us in times of trials and heartaches ect,  I hope it blesses yous like it has for me,
God Bless
Love Tigerlily

When you're up against a wall,
And your mountain seems so tall,
And you realize that life's not always fair,
You can run away and hide,
Let the old man decide,
Or you can change your circumstances
With a prayer.

When everything falls apart,
Praise His name,
When you have a broken heart,
Raise your hands and say,
"Lord, You're all I need;
You're everything to me."
And He'll take the pain away.
When it seems you're all alone,
Praise His name.
When you feel you can't go on,
Just raise your hands and say,
"Greater is He that is in me."
You can praise the hurt away
If you'll just praise His name.

You can overcome by the blood of the Lamb
And by the word of your testimony.
You'll see the darkness go
As our faith begins to grow.
You're not alone,
So how can you be lonely?

When everything falls apart,
Praise His name.
When you have a broken heart,
Raise your hands and say,
"Lord you're all I need;
You're everything to me."
And He'll take the pain away,
When it seems you're all alone,
Praise His name.
When you feel you can't go on,
Just raise your hands and say,
"Greater is He that is in me."
You can praise the hurt away.
"Greater is He that is in me."
YOu can praise the hurt away.
If you'll just praise His name.

[Shylynne]

Above All

Above all powers, above all kings
Above all nature and all created things
Above all wisdom and all the ways of man
You were here before the world began
Above all kingdoms, above all thrones
Above all wonders the world has ever known
Above all wealth and treasures of the earth
There's no way to measure what you're worth

Crucified, laid behind a stone
You lived to die, rejected and alone
Like a rose, trampled on the ground
You took the fall and thought of me
Above all...


Artist: Rebecca St. James

Awesome! Worship songs  dont get any more beautiful than this!

[Reba]

This Blood's For You

By Carman


Violently they grabbed His arms as they tightly strapped each wrist. With the hellish looks that a strong armed soldier whip clenched in his fist. Laced with chips of bone they beat Him hard from his shoulders to His feet. And it sliced right through His olive skin just like razors through a sheet.

Countless times the blood splattered as each inhuman lash was given. Several times His knees gave way as His flesh just hung like ribbons. Then surprisingly He turned His head though the words He used were few. The soldier's face turned pale when He said "This blood is for you."

Uncaringly they tossed a garment across His weakened form. And His blood pressure fell deathly low as the crowds began to swarm. They forced Him to carry His cross uphill as His face they punched and smacked. As the splinters from the crisscrossed beam dug deep into His back.

Through lack of sleep and dehydration His tongue began to swell. And weakened by His loss of blood, this Prophet, Teacher fell. When He did, some blood splattered on a man named Simon's shoe. And as He bent to wipe it off, the Prophet said, "Simon, this blood is for you."

Chorus: This blood can save the soul, heal the sick, mend the heart. This blood can give you access to the very Throne of God. And it still can go the distance through the pain to where you are. This blood is for you---- THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB.

Then they pounded a spike through His wrist, bursting arteries and veins. As they dropped the cross in the hole they dug, His body convulsed with pain. Through an agony and torment that never a soul shall find, He tilts His face towards heaven with full control of His Mind. With more love than any human heard before that time or since, He made a statement that to this day makes the strongest skeptic wince. He cried, "Father God, forgive them for they know not what they do." And as He gave His life for those lost in sin, He was saying, "This blood is for you."

Chorus: And this blood can save the soul, heal the sick, mend the heart. This blood can give you access to the very Throne of God. And it still can go the distance through the pain to where you are. This blood is for you, if you're lost and alone and your mind is confused,

This Blood is For You

If you feel like you have been hurt and abused

THIS BLOOD IS FOR YOU!

The ATONING, CLEANSING, Blood of the Lamb!

[Shylynne]

 

[Shylynne]

Mercy Rewrote My Life

For years I traveled a road all wrong
My heart had lost its joy and its song
Till grace placed me right where I belong
When mercy rewrote my life
 
Mercy rewrote my life
Mercy rewrote my life
I could have fallen my soul cast down
But mercy rewrote my life
 
My mistakes God turned into miracles
And all of my tears He turned into Joy
Then my past was forgiven and my new name it was written
When mercy rewrote my life