Isaiah_64-8: But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand

Father, What Can To Thee Be Given
For All Thy Mercies Blest
For Riches Of Thy Glorious Grace
And For The Bliss Of Rest?

My Weary Soul Doth Pant For Thee
In Dry And Thorny Land
And In The Howling Wilderness
I Find Thy Guiding Hand.

Thou Lovest Me With Love Unknown
When No One Can Console
And Like The Apple Of Thine Eyes
Preservest Thou My Soul

Thou Leadest Me, And Thou Alone
In Paths Thou Knowest Best
I Trust Thee When I Cannot Trace
The Way To Future Rest.

Within Thy Hands I Place My Own
And Thus My Path Pursue
Content To Walk With Thee Alone
Till Glory Fills My View.
Amen!

Thank You Jesus!

Isaiah_9-6: For unto us a child…