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 Post subject: POEM - A TROUBLED SOUL - GOD IS THE LIFTER OF THE HEAD
PostPosted: Tue Mar 08, 2011 6:32 pm 
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A Troubled Soul

A troubled soul, deep in tears and shuttering abounding, I call unto my Savior now.

Help me, O Lord for I shudder at nights depth for the Terrors encircle me, they say of my soul, there is no rest for him in God. Hurry, oh Lord, to my aid, though I stumble, you shall uphold me. To trouble am I born, but to save me you were born. Born that you might bear my burdens and carry my load. Yea, it is heavy, Oh Lord, beyond bearing. But you, Oh Lord lighten my load. For it is unto you I look, Oh Savior Divine. To have and to hold to deaths dear end, that I might sleep that dreamless sleep, to awaken in a new dawn in your arms. Dust to dust am I. I shall go to Him, not Him to I, when at last life's dear victory's and failures bloom. They bloom upon deaths door, oh so near.

Oh Lord, I am troubled beyond desire, what does it all mean? Fixity-Fifty am I, at last to know, I made it thus far. To what avail said I. What is the meaning of a life such as mine? Oh, if I could but reach and touch you, all would be well. My soul would calm itself, I know this well.

A Father of a Son and Daughter long forgotten, a daughter who has forgotten her father, a son who tetter tots back and forth. Oh, that he knew you, Oh Savior Divine. What would be the measure of a man, what would he give for his son or daughter? I dare that I've found through no fault of mine the measure of a man. A Fathers love after all is only human and subject to fall.

Strong am I? Perhaps once in life, but now I am old perhaps as Job. I am wrung out on the wringer of life. God once gave. He has now taken. I lay my head down to rest and the visions of the night disturb me. Is there any rest for my soul, Oh Lord? Have I failed; have I missed the mark? Woe is I. I awake with the sound of Judgment Day. I slumber only to awake before my body awakes, a soul trapped unable to move. I call out to Jesus - He delivers my soul. Oh, wretched man, when shall the Lord sound from Zion? When will he send my enemies and them that trouble my soul to flight?

Rise up Oh Lord and deliver my soul, my darling from the wolves that sound me. From them that say in the quiet places there is no help for him in God. Arise oh my soul! Lift up your head, cast off the garment of mourning for morning cometh, and your Prince comes leaping over the mountain tops and jumping over the valleys to His beloved. So take hope oh my soul, for the Lord shall soon be the lifter of your head.

I laid me down to sleep and I arose. The Lord was the lifter of mine head.

Psalms 3:3 "But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me, my glory, and the lifter up of mine head."


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