In Hope Believe

By faith the saints of old beheld You; through sorrow and joy You gently led.
By faith they reckoned You as faithful, and they held to ev’ry Word You said.
O, let us then with eyes that see far, with them look to that promise free.

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      “Against all hope, in hope believe”—You spoke and so it then shall be.
      “In hope believe” and thus receive this life with You eternally!

2.
O Lord, my Rock, my God and Savior, my Joy, my life, my all and crown,
around me are the noise and clamors of the world that seeks to pull me down.
My eyes here long to see Your favor, and in this world a glimpse I see.

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3.
Your eyes are on Your people always, on those who will obey and fear You,
on those whose hope is in salvation and Your great unfailing Love so true.
You will deliver them from judgment and bring their blinded eyes to see.

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4.
O Lord, we wait in hope for Your help; You are our Rock, our Shield and fortress.
In You our hearts rejoice with singing even though by trial we are oppressed.
Say to our souls “I’m your salvation; My face in heaven you shall see.”

     Chorus

 D. Benning  © 2006

This has been set to music, the tune Myfanwy, which was composed by Dr. Joseph Perry (1843 - 1901)

• See the score here
• Direct link to the mp3

My Heart Is Not Proud

My heart, O Lord, is not proud,
I lift not up my eyes;
and things too great and lofty
I will not seek as prize.
     But I have still and quieted my soul
     like a weaned child within its mother's arms.
     I place my hope in You,
     Both now and evermore.

In grace You bid me look up;
my eyes look up to You;
As slaves look their Master,
I hope in all that's true.
     For I have still and quieted my soul
     like a weaned child within its mother's arms.
     I place my hope in You,
     Both now and evermore.

Our eyes look to the Lord God,
let mercy flow from heav'n.
We wait in humble posture
for grace that's freely giv'n.
     For we have still and quieted our souls
     like a weaned child within its mother's arms.
     We place our hope in You,
     Both now and evermore.

~D. Benning, 2011

As set to music....

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"It has always been my aim, and it is my prayer, to have no plan as regards myself; well assured as I am that the place where the Saviour sees meet to place me must ever be the best place for me."
—Robert Murray M'Cheyne, 1813-1843.

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From Spurgeon's, Treasury of David, Psalm 131:2—

[David says that he is] as a child that is weaned of afflictions mother. He had become as subdued and content as a child whose weaning is fully accomplished. The Easterners put off the time of weaning far later than we do, and we may conclude that the process grows none the easier by being postponed. At last there must be an end to the suckling period, and then a battle begins: the child is denied his comfort, and therefore frets and worries, flies into pets, or sinks into sulks. It is facing its first great sorrow and it is in sore distress. Yet time brings not only alleviations, but the ending of the conflict; the boy ere long is quite content to find his nourishment at the table with his brothers, and he feels no lingering, wish to return to those dear fountains from which he once sustained his life. He is no longer angry with his mother, but buries his head in that very bosom after which he pined so grievously: he is weaned on his mother rather than from her.

"My soul doth like a weanling rest,
I cease to weep;
So mother's lap, though dried her breast,
Can lull to sleep."

To the weaned child his mother is his comfort though she has denied him comfort. It is a blessed mark of growth out of spiritual infancy when we can forego the joys which once appeared to be essential, and can find our solace in him who denies them to us: then we behave manfully, and every childish complaint is hushed. If the Lord removes our dearest delight we bow to his will without a murmuring thought; in fact, we find a delight in giving up our delight. This is no spontaneous fruit of nature, but a well tended product of divine grace: it grows out of humility and lowliness, and it is the stem upon which peace blooms as a fair flower.

De Profundis

Up from the deeps, O God, I cry to thee!
Hear my soul's prayer, hear thou her litany,
O thou who sayest, "Come, wanderer, home to me."

Up from the deeps of sorrow, wherein lie
Dark secrets veil'd from earth's unpitying eye,
My prayers, like star crown'd angels, Godward fly.

From the calm bosom when in quiet hour
God's Holy Spirit reigns with largest power,
Then shall each thought in prayer's white blossom flower.

Not from life's shallows, where the waters sleep,
A dull, low marsh where stagnant vapours creep,
But ocean voiced, deep calling unto deep.

As he of old, King David, call'd to thee,
As cries the heart of poor humanity,
"Clamavi, Domine, exaudi me!"**

—C. S. Fenner, as quoted in C. H. Spurgeon's Treasury of David, Ps 130, verse 1


** "I cry, O Lord, hear me!"

Psalm 126

When, her sons from bonds redeeming,
God to Zion led the way,
We were like to people dreaming
Thoughts of bliss too bright to stay.

Fill'd with laughter, stood we gazing,
Loud our tongues in rapture sang;
Quickly with the news amazing
All the startled nations rang.

"See Jehovah's works of glory!
Mark what love for them he had!"
"Yes, FOR US! Go tell the story.
This was done, and we are glad."

Lord! thy work of grace completing
All our exiled hosts restore,
As in thirsty channels meeting
Southern streams refreshing pour.

They that now in sorrow weeping
Tears and seed commingled sow,
Soon, the fruitful harvest reaping,
Shall with joyful bosoms glow.

Tho' the sower's heart is breaking,
Bearing forth the seed to shed,
He shall come, the echoes waking,
Laden with his sheaves instead.

—William Digby Seymour, in "The Hebrew Psalter. A New Metrical Translation," 1882.