Blistered Feet

O Lord, my feet are blistered and bruised,
My old shoes are worn and used,
My soles are broken, the skin is tough,
The ground where I walk, uneven and rough.

How often have I stubbed my toe?
At times I stumble, the going is slow,
But forward on the path I press
And still walk on in trial and stress.

I carry my weight, and a brother’s load,
This thought I bear on the dusty road:
If you, my God, can wash my feet,
The way of Christ I’ll surely complete.

When Close to Eternal Lands

When comes the time to breathe my last,
To pillow my head and rest,
Make all my deeds and doings past
To have been the Kingdom’s best.

Upon a work let me look back
That glorifies the Lord,
In my resolve no fault or crack,
In heaven my treasures stored.

Give strength, O Lord, to heart and hands,
No cause to stumble or fall,
May I, when close to eternal lands,
Be ready to heed your call.

I Most Believe the Fear I Feel

What windows look upon your face,
Through darkest hour and hardest race,
Where can we see the upward turn? —
Your sovereign hand we’d soon discern.

I see the waves and howling wind,
The chilly vale where men walk blind,
And fail, in swelling pride, to heal —
I most believe the fear I feel.

Till Jesus comes, will I have faith?
Or will I be an object of wrath?
My will to endure, O Lord, is small —
Along the way let me not fall.