There are many unsung heroes
Throughout church history,
Holding up the preacher’s hands
And helping them to preach.
Of those many unsung heroes,
The ones neglected most of all,
Are those sweet and precious pastor’s wives
In the shadows, unseen at all.
Not leading temperance meetings,
Neither teaching Sunday School,
But encouraging the man of God,
Whom the world see’s as a fool.
A bulwark in the raging sea
To which our souls are tied.
A shelter from the raging storms
In which our souls are tried.
God bless the unsung heroes,
Unseen by anyone,
Who, holding up the man of God,
Are blessing everyone
I don’t want to go there empty,
My precious Lord to meet.
Just an empty broken vessel,
No gift to lay there at His feet.
I don’t want to stand there empty,
When I meet Him face to face,
Back-slid, marred and useless,
Unwilling runner in this race.
Oh, Lord don’t let me always fail you,
Since you’ve saved me by your grace,
Please bless me now and use me,
Help me run the race.
Oh God, to stand there empty handed,
When your face at last I see,
Will make it harder then to show,
How much I do love thee.
I know that actions speak much louder,
Than any words that I may say,
God please grant that I go not empty,
No gift at your feet to lay.
My Saviour’s Love
A friend took a walk for me one day,
A long, long time ago.
He suffered and bled and endured such pain,
More pain than I’ll ever know.
Though He was the strongest man on earth,
Still He bore all those stripes for me.
Then the roughly hewn wood, gouged His torn back,
As He walked beneath Calvary’s tree.
His blood washed all my burdens away,
All the while He was mourning for me,
Though He didn’t have to go there that day,
He did, and did willfully.
I, as a man, cannot understand,
The love that my Lord has for me,
But He saw me with Him, before this world began,
And with Him, one day, I will be.
I remember lying in the clover,
Under a shade tree in the yard,
Granny’d tell us bible stories
I remember how she blessed my little heart.
You know old David was my hero,
And he still is one today,
I helped him kill old Goliath,
With a little vinyl sling my granny made.
I can’t forget those days of childhood,
Grandmaw’s blessing little hearts,
Telling us those bible stories,
Teaching us the word of God.
You now I’ve got boys of my own now,
And some traditions I will keep,
I’m gonna pass on those same stories
That I learned sitting at my granny’s feet.
Let’s not forget those days of childhood,
Running outside in the yard,
Playing barefoot in the clover,
And learning about the word of God.
When grandmaw’s taught the little children
Those stories from the word of God.
Sweet, sweet Rose of Sharon and hopeful dew of Spring.
The sweetest name ere known to man
Compels my heart to sing.
Oh, let me sing thy praises loud, And sound abroad the call.
God has sent His Precious Son
To die for one and all.
Though not in debt to us at all, And with naught of us to gain,
Jesus came from Heaven’s throne,
The Lamb of God was slain.
Oh. Jesus, let me speak thy name. Tis sweet to speak of thee.
And thank you for your promise
That you’re coming back for me.
James H. Knight