Yet [*/+/^] : 27.225 MHz, Some Final Measures; A Prayer To Our Most Merciful Savior, Jesus The Christ [Repost]

Lord, save us:  we perish.

---Matthew 8:25

 

Most Merciful Jesus, I often stumble and fall;

but yet, You hear, and reach to me, any time I call

upon Your Name.  The certainty of Your Holy Word

promises that each prayer I make is heard.

To your Throne of Grace, You invite me to draw near

(though sin seeks to interrupt, delay or stall

my approach).  You tell me, gently, "Do not fear"

so that I may call upon Your Name with real, sincere

Faith:  which is to receive, or continue, in Salvation's

joy that is chiefest of my soul's exultations,

worshipping You Who set the stars in constellations.


Starward

[*/+/^]

Author's Notes/Comments: 

James 3:2; Hebrews 4:16; Luke 12:32; Romans 10:13; and Acts 4:12; and Job 9:9-10


This is the kind of poem I have wanted to write since October 13, 1975.

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