"O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?
Now sin is the sting of death, and sin exercises
its power upon the soul through the abuse of the Law.
But thanks be to God, Who gives us the victory,
making us conquerors through our Lord Jesus Christ."
1 Corinthians 15:55-57
Welcome My Child
Danny Hahlbohm
Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,
Calling for you and for me;
See, on the portals He's waiting and watching,
Watching for you and for me.
(Refrain)
Come home, come home,
You who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!
Why should we tarry when Jesus is pleading,
Pleading for you and for me?
Why should we linger and heed not His mercies,
Mercies for you and for me?
(Refrain)
Time is now fleeting, the moments are passing,
Passing from you and from me;
Shadows are gathering, deathbeds are coming,
Coming for you and for me.
(Refrain)
O for the wonderful love He has promised,
Promised for you and for me!
Though we have sinned, He has mercy and pardon,
Pardon for you and for me.
(Refrain)
"Softly and Tenderly Jesus Is Calling"
(1880)
Words and Music by
Will Lamartine Thompson
(1847-1909)
Near a shady wall a rose once grew
Budded and blossomed in God's free light,
Watered and fed by the morning dew,
Shedding its sweetness day and night.
As it grew and blossomed fair and tall,
Slowly rising to loftier height,
It came to a crevice in the wall
Through which there shone a beam of light.
Onward it crept with added strength
With never a thought of fear or pride,
It followed the light through the crevice's length
And unfolded itself on the other side.
The light, the dew, the broadening view
Were found the same as they were before,
And it lost itself in beauties new,
Breathing it's fragrance more and more
Shall claim of death cause us to grieve
And make our courage faint and fall?
Nay! Let our faith and hope receive
The rose still grows beyond the wall,
Scattering fragrance far and wide
Just as it did in days of yore,
Just as it did on the other side,
Just as it will forever-more.
"The Rose Beyond The Wall"
-A.L. Frink
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
"Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep"
-Mary Elizabeth Fyre
My Dad loved country music and taking Mom
and all six of us kids exploring down back country roads.
This song reminds me of those happy and carefree times
and of him. I love you, Daddy.
Take Me Home Country Roads
(1971)
John Denver
Near a shady wall a rose once grew
Budded and blossomed in God's free light,
Watered and fed by the morning dew,
Shedding its sweetness day and night.
As it grew and blossomed fair and tall,
Slowly rising to loftier height,
It came to a crevice in the wall
Through which there shone a beam of light.
Onward it crept with added strength
With never a thought of fear or pride,
It followed the light through the crevice's length
And unfolded itself on the other side.
The light, the dew, the broadening view
Were found the same as they were before,
And it lost itself in beauties new,
Breathing it's fragrance more and more
Shall claim of death cause us to grieve
And make our courage faint and fall?
Nay! Let our faith and hope receive
The rose still grows beyond the wall,
Scattering fragrance far and wide
Just as it did in days of yore,
Just as it did on the other side,
Just as it will forever-more.
"The Rose Beyond The Wall"
-A.L. Frink
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
"Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep"
-Mary Elizabeth Fyre
My Dad loved country music and taking Mom
and all six of us kids exploring down back country roads.
This song reminds me of those happy and carefree times
and of him. I love you, Daddy.
(1971)
John Denver
In loving memory of my father
Anthony Michael Brida
(1938-2020)
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