A Dios Ofrecemos Gozosa Canción — To God We Offer a Joyful Song

 

youtube video

Letra: Julia H. Johnson.
Música: H. R. Palmer, 1834–1907

Lyrics found here:   A Dios Ofrecemos Gozosa Canción

               along with the music

From this Hymnal: https://singpraises.net/collections/es/hymns

1. A Dios ofrecemos gozosa canción

To God we offer joyful song

 

que cantamos en esta feliz estación.

that we sing in this happy season.

 

Le agradecemos Su luz y amor,

You we thank [for] Your light and love,

 

y Sus dones tan ricos de grande valor.

and Your gifts so rich of great value.

   [Chorus]

    ¡Aleluya! ¡Aleluya! Entonad la canción;

    Alleluia! Alleluia! Sing the song;

 

    con rebosantes corazones elevemos el son.

    with overflowing hearts let us elevate the sound (tone).

2. Abiertas las puertas del cielo están,
   Open the portals (gates) of heaven are,

y cordial bienvenida a todos darán.
and warm welcome to all will be given.

Con fe, pues, obremos en bien de Sión,
With faith, then, let us work in good of Zion,

con afán trabajando por nuestra mansión.
with eager working for our mansion.

[Chorus]

 

3. Al fin al llegar al hogar celestial,
   At last to arrive at the home celestial,

con sus calles de oro y mar de cristal;
with its street of gold and sea of crystal;

y con gran poder el Señor reinará
and with great power the Lord shall reign

y a todos los fieles Sus dones dará.
and to all the faithfull His gifts give.

[Chorus]

 

 

 

 

English Translation with extra verse

1.
To God let us offer glad songs of great joy;
That we sing in all seasons our hearts shall employ.
We thank Him for gifts of His light and His love
That He showers upon us as dew from Above.

2.
The Portals of Heaven are now open wide
And extend a warm welcome to come on inside.
With faith let us work for Mount Zion's increase
With our eager endeavors to spread our Lord's peace.

3.
At last we arrive at our heavenly land
Golden streets, a crystal sea we shall then see firsthand.
With pow'r and authority our Lord shall reign
And with gifts to His faithful with Grace He shall deign.

4.
O bless now the Lord, O my soul, praise the Lord!
Tell His glory and splendor, all honor accord.
In great adoration fall down at His Throne
And worship the Sovereign who makes you His own!


Chorus:
  Alleluia!  Praise Jehovah!  Loudly sing His great Name!
  With songs of thanksgiving to the Lamb that was slain!

I am Dreaming of the Mountains

I am dreaming of the mountains of my home
Of the mountains where in childhood I would roam
I have dwelt 'neath southern skies
Where the summer never dies
But my heart is in the mountains of my home

I can see the little homestead on the hill
I can hear the charming music of the Rhyl
There is nothing to compare
With the love that once was there
In that lonely little homestead on the hill

I can see the quiet churchyard down below
Where the mountain breezes wander to and fro
And when God my soul will keep
It is there I want to sleep
With those dear old folks that loved me long ago.


Additional verse added here:

I am dreaming of the mountains of my youth.
Yet I long for Christ my spirit soon to soothe:
There in Heav'n His face I'll see
And from sin I'll be set free—
There in Heaven on God's holy Mount of Truth!


As performed by Simon Khorolskiy

And a performance by the famous Welsh tenor, Bryn Terfel

And the Russian translated by Zarina Kozlov—

Часто снятся мне те горы, где мой дом,
Где я в детстве с каждым был знаком холмом.
Жил под южным небом я  
В лета вечного краях,
Только сердце в тех горах и в доме том

Вижу сердцем милый домик на холме,
И мелодия реки звучит во мне
Не сравнится ничего
с нежностью, теплом его
Того маленького дома на холме

В тихий двор церковный веет ветер с гор...
Когда душу призовет к Себе мой Бог
Я б хотел покой найти ,
Где родные старики
Кто любил меня еще с тех давних пор.

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Let Us Dream of Heaven

My rough translation of a Russian poem:

Let us dream of Heaven every moment of earth,
So that from our eyes oozes the longed-for Paradise
And infects others with holy yearning;
Let the heart dream of Heaven constantly.

So that my every step is a step toward You,
So that my every breath is a breath for the sake of the Kingdom.
So that the faint spirit against the storm is not roughened,
Grant this slave such consistency.

Let us measure life not by force, nor by intelligence,
Not by power, nor by passing glory.
So that I, by fire's testing
For endurance, will have proven genuine.

I know my path is measured out by You,
All more often by a groan and only sometimes with a song,
So that my earthly mind is grounded,
And to learn only of Heaven to dream.

~ Margarita Kolomiytseva


-------------- The Original --------------


Дай грезить небом каждый миг земной,
Чтобы из глаз сочился рай желанный
И заражал других святой тоской;
Дай сердцу грезить небом постоянно.

Чтоб каждый шаг мой, шагом был к Тебе,
Чтоб каждый вдох, был вдохом ради Царства.
Чтоб слабый дух от бурь не огрубел,
Даруй рабе такое постоянство.

Дай мерить жизнь не силой, не умом,
Не властью и не славой проходящей.
Чтоб мне, при испытании огнем
На прочность, оказаться настоящей.

Я знаю, путь мой вымерен Тобой,
Всё чаще стоном и лишь где-то песней,
Чтоб разземнился разум мой земной,
И научиться только небом грезить.

~ Маргарита Коломийцева

My Home in Heaven — Мой Дом На Небе

I am noticing that this Russian hymn is being covered by a number of artists and groups.  I have translated this hymn so that English speakers can sing it and enter into worship with our Slavic brothers and sisters — those who have gone before us and those who still remain here awaiting that Heavenly Home!

I will list some of them here with link so that you can explore the variety of interpretations of this song of hope and waiting.  I will also present my English version of the lyrics.

• Белый Ангел | White Angel:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g9i4Z2oRdvk
• Simon Khorolskiy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8emZjgD2uCc
• Группа Мелодия:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_wGIPPQ8K8
• Church:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTWTASPoxSY
• Sulamita Slavic Evangelical Church in Portland, Oregon
• Church congregation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jntCwCCjAUA
• Westfield Russian Evangelical Baptist Church in Massachusetts 
• Unknown artist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=akfQRL1nC6I
• Unknown artist, instrumental:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6xlItIgpCw
• Аркадий Кобяков: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5XdubCYngM
• Vitalii Arabadji:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y95oVTfO4wE
  

Special thanks to TG for finding which churches these were.

A note about this song and who composed it.
«Песня написанная в 1937 году на ссылке в узах неизвестным автопом.»
"A song written in 1937 in prison in bonds (ie, in the Gulag) by unknown author."

Consider that!  This Christian brother, in the midst of severe troubles, looked to Heaven and the joy that awaited him there.  John Trapp (English Bible commentator from the 17th Century) wrote: “He that rides to be crowned, will not think much of a rainy day.”

My home in Heaven beyond the clouds here,
Is where new life starts—eternal days;
There friends and fam'ly will gather with us
To sing the Father our songs of praise.

As in a storm then a sailor seeks rest
A quiet place then his boat to dock;
So my heart longs for the dwelling of light
Where rest awaits us 'neath this strong Rock.

       O home of Heaven, O how I long for,
       So that etern'lly I'll live within;
       And there will be God whom I will praise then
       And in His light serve Christ without sin.
  
Eternal homeland, O pleasant country!
There will my spirit see my Dear Friend,
Who on Golgotha for our sins suffered
And reconciled us—world without end!

The sor'ws of bitter tears we pour not now,
For evermore then the glory sing!
Illness and parting and tears forgotten—
All swept away on that Heav'nly wing!

———The Russian Lyrics———



Мой дом на небе, за облаками,
Где жизни новой уж нет конца,
Друзья, родные где будут с нами
Петь песни славы там у Отца.

Как в бурю с моря моряк стремится
Причалить в гавань, чтоб отдохнуть,
Так рвусь я сердцем в жилище света,
Где отдых ждет всех, свершивших путь.

     О дом небесный, где быть желаю,
     Туда стремлюсь я, чтоб вечно жить;
     Там буду Бога я вечно славить
     И в свете чудном Христу служить.

Отрадно будет в том вечном доме,
Увижу Друга души моей,
Кто на Голгофе за грех наш умер
И примирил нас с Отцом людей.

В печалях горьких слез лить не будем,
Навеки славу мы будем петь;
Разлуки, скорь  би, болезнь забудем,
Не будем больше нужды терпеть.
 

Trust The Climb

  Background —




In January of 2019, West Virginia University hired Neal Brown as their new football coach.  In June of 2019, he released a tweet acknowledging there is a rebuilding process that is underway and that it will take time.  He summed it up in a catchy phrase: Trust The Climb.  This phrase has gained momentum and usage throughout the WVU nation.  Even though (as of 23-Oct-2019), WVU is 3 - 4 on the season, fans across the country are reminding themselves that they can "Trust the Climb."

         Connection —



I'm not that much of a football fan.  I'll pay attention a little, here and there.  But as I kept reading and hearing this phrase, "Trust the Climb"  I started thinking about Hannah Hurnard's book Hinds' Feet on High Places.  Immediately I was reminded that the character Much Afraid had to trust the Shepherd to bring her up to the heights.  And the path chosen for her was not the easy one, nor was it the route that went the straightest.  In fact it went to and through places that Much Afraid did not want at all.  Yet she had to trust her Shepherd to make the climb.

  The Take Home—


Isn't this, though, exactly what we're supposed to do in our spiritual journey, climbing up to Emmanuel's Land?  We've never been there before; we don't know the way; there are many obstacles to overcome.  Surely if we chose the route ourselves, we would end up in a world of hurt, trouble and misfortune—to say the least.  But we have a Great Shepherd who has our eternal good in mind.  We may trust the climb because He is the One leading and guiding us—and, in fact, has promised never to leave us nor forsake us!  If Mountaineer Fans can trust a coach, how much more can we, as God's chosen people, trust our Heavenly Father and our Older Brother, Christ Jesus, as we climb home!



An Update and further Reflection—

Neil Brown was fired after six season with WVU on Dec. 1, 2024.  Many trusted the climb, but there was a limit to their trust.  And with good reason.  Neil is only human and can only do so much.  He has limited resources and limited abilities.

That is not the case with trusting our might Lord.  He is completely able.  He is all powerful and all knowing.  He has unlimited resources and is working all things out with infinite wisdom for His glory and for the good of those He loves.  We may trust the climb as we wend our way upward toward home and eternity with Him.  He is Sovereign and Good.  There is no firing Him: There is no one higher, and there is no ultimate reason either for ALL things work together for the good of those who love Him and are called by Him: 

 "No power can break that blessed unity which is conjoin'd betwixt my Lord and me.  I'm fix'd  in Him; my standing sure is made, and none can invade my eternal crown."  Benjamin Keach

Ах, журавли, журавли — Oh, the Cranes

1.
Над тайгой засыпающей
Nad taygoy zasypayushchey
Over taiga falling asleep

Тихо всходит луна,
Tikho vskhodit luna,
Silently rises [the] moon,

А в дали замирающий
A v dali zamirayushchiy
And in distance fading

Слышен крик журавля.
Slyshen krik zhuravlya.
[the] audible cry [of the] crane.

Припев
Ах, журавли, журавли,
Akh, zhuravli, zhuravli,
Oh, [the] cranes, [the] cranes,

Возьмите меня с собой
Voz'mite menya s soboy
Take me with yourselves

С севера дикого в сторону южную
S severa dikogo v storonu yuzhnuyu
From north wild to side south


2.
Как услышу я крики
Kak uslyshu ya kriki
As will hear I [the] cries

Журавля над собой,
Zhuravlya nad soboy,
[of] cranes over myself,

Сердце бъется в груди моей,
Serdtse b'yetsya v grudi moyey,
Heart beats in chest [of] mine,

Сердце рвется домой.
Serdtse rvetsya domoy.
Heart longs (lit. breaks) [for] home.


3.
Снова вечер спускается
Snova vecher spuskayetsya
Again night descends

Над зелёной тайгой,
Nad zelyonoy taygoy,
Over [the] green taiga

В небе перекликаются
V nebe pereklikayutsya
In [the] sky  resonates

Журавли меж собой.
Zhuravli mezh soboy.
Cranes amonst themselves.

4.
Этот крик журавлиный
Etot krik zhuravlinyy
This cry [of the] cranes

Мне напомнил сейчас
Mne napomnil seychas
Me reminded now

О небесной Отчизне,
O nebesnoy Otchizne,
About heavenly Fatherland

Что готова для нас.
Chto gotova dlya nas.
That is readied for us.


  Leonty Mihailovich Zhidkov is the author of these lyrics, 1974.

This version was recommended by Leonty Zhidkov:

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My Home In Heaven

Simon wrote:

Я всегда знал, что раньше или позже я должен буду сделать видео на эту тему. Уровень жизни в наше время так высок, что иногда кажется, что тот период времени просто выдумка. Но это не так. Я благодарен Богу, что сегодня никто не отнимает мою жизнь за веру в Иисуса Христа. Но будем ли мы готовы сделать это, если потребуется?

I always knew that sooner or later I would have to make a video on this topic. The standard of living in our time is so high that sometimes it seems that that [this] period of time is just an invention. But it is not. I am grateful to God that today no one takes my life for believing in Jesus Christ. But will we be ready to do this if necessary?

My home in Heaven beyond the clouds here,
Is where new life starts—eternal days;
There friends and fam'ly will gather with us
To sing the Father our songs of praise.

As in a storm then a sailor seeks rest
A quiet place then his boat to dock;
So my heart longs for the dwelling of light
Where rest awaits us 'neath this strong Rock.


       O home of Heaven, O how I long for,
       So that etern'lly I'll live within;
       And there will be God whom I will praise then
       And in His light serve Christ without sin.
  

Eternal homeland, O pleasant country!
There will my spirit see my Dear Friend,
Who on Golgotha for our sins suffered
And reconciled us—world without end!

The sor'ws of bitter tears we pour not now,
For evermore then the glory sing!
Illness and parting and tears forgotten—
All swept away on that Heav'nly wing!

BACK TO INDEX

A Listener's Comment:

Мой отец был приговорен к 25 годам в Гулаг за то что проповедывал Христа. Его взяли прямо со школы, где он был директором, в Барнауле,где и моя мама учительствовала, и только один ученик со школы случайно увидел как Андрея Петровича Горетого, по НКВД кличке «Небесный Огородник», увезли в черном воронке. Строили в ряды по 25 человек и каждого 5-го по рачсчету расстреливали. Отец несколько раз был 4-м... проведение Божие ( после лагерей он стал пресвитером одной из многочисленной Церкви Пятидесятников г. Барнаула и позже г. Находка, совместно со своим братом Николаем Петровичем). В ГУЛАГе он провел 3.5 года, Сталин помер, отца освободили по недоказанности преступления (враг народа), ст. 58, но поразили во всех гражданских правах, так что до конца жизни он мог работать только как штукатур- маляр. Учительствовать ветерану 2-й мировой не дали, еще и гнали с работы через 2-3 месяца- «баптист» не имел права даже на работу, чтобы кормить свою семью из 9-ти детей!.. Спасибо и благодарность, брат Симон, за клип! Это сильно встревожило всю историю моей семьи. Мы плакали, по просмотру. Господи! Упокой души погибших за Имя Твое, за Свидетельство Иисуса Христа, за Дух Христов!..Аминь! Аминь! Аминь!    

~~David Goretoy

My father was sentenced to 25 years in the Gulag for preaching Christ. He was taken directly from the school where he was the director, in Barnaul, where my mother taught, and only one student from the school accidentally saw Andrei Petrovich Goretogo, according to the NKVD [Narodny Komissariat Vnutrennikh Del—The People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs], nicknamed “Heavenly Gardener,” was taken away in a black paddy wagon. They placed in rows of 25 people, and every 5th on a counter was shot. Father was the 4th several times ... held of God (After the camps he became the presbyter of one of the numerous Pentecostal Church of Barnaul and later the city of Nakhodka, together with his brother Nikolai Petrovich). In the gulag he spent 3.5 years, Stalin died, and my father was released due to the lack of evidence of the crime (the enemy of the people), article 58, but was struck in all civil rights, so that for the rest of his life he could only work as a plaster - painter. The veteran of the 2nd World War was not allowed to teach, they also driven from work in 2-3 months - the “Baptist” didn’t even have the right to work to feed his family of 9 children! ..
Thanks and much gratefulness, brother Simon, for the clip! This greatly disturbed the whole history of my family. We cried, upon viewing.
Good Lord God, give rest to the souls of those who perished for your name, for the testimony of Jesus Christ, for the Spirit of Christ! .. Amen! Amen! Amen!..  

~~David Goretoy

Where Are You, Homeland Eternal?

I love this arrangement by Simon Khorolskiy.  He only sings three verses; I, however, found another verse.  They are here translated and versified into English.  (See below for the Russian Lyrics, including the extra verse.)

Where are you beautiful, clean, clear, and spotless
Homeland eternal, my Fatherland!?
My thoughts to you do fly, in higher winged fashion;
Into the blue skies will I focus my gaze!

    --Chorus--
     Over me stretches endless blue heavens;
     A dark flock of cranes fly and wing overhead;
     The cry of the birds is great joy and elation
     To homeland of brightness they return with great joy.

There in the sky above, that cloudless country,
The Shepherd Christ Jesus, waiting for me;
Soon will I come to that Beauty of Holiness,
Then once again my eyes raise up to Heav'n!

     Chorus

I know my Savior is soon coming for me
And then will take home His snowy-white bride!
I only ask of You to keep me on this path
So that I'm spotless in eternity's Day!

     Chorus

Homeland eternal, land of clear blue skies,
Wonderful country, my Fatherland!
Accept my heart and all, the color of my youth,
Into His hands fore'er I give now myself!

     Chorus

Simon Khorolskiy singing a 3-verse version of this song

Где ты прекрасная, светлая ясная

Родина вечная - Отчизна моя

Мысли к тебе летят, в высь устремляются

В синее небо направляю свой взор

         Припев

А надо мною синее небо,

И стаей тёмной летят журавли

В крике их птичьем радости много

В родине светлой возвратились они

Там в вышине небес, в краю безоблачном

Пастырь Иисус Христос ждет уж меня

Скоро ль достигну я той красоты святой

И поднимаю вновь к небу глаза

         Припев

Знаю, Спаситель мой, скоро придешь за мной

И белоснежную церковь возьмешь

Только прошу Тебя, дай устоять в пути

Чтобы без пятнышка в вечность войти

         Припев

Родина вечная, чистое небо
Край мой чудесный, Отчизна моя
Прими мое сердце, цвет моей юности
В руки Иисуса отдаюсь навсегда.

       Припев

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Heaven Is My Native Land

This Russian hymn was published in Collection of Spiritual Songs, 1911.
Scroll to the bottom for music with the English lyrics.

Heav'n is my native land—my heav'nly home!

My Father waits for me—my heav'nly home!

I am a stranger here;

Darkness around with fear;

Sorrows press close and near—

      my heav'nly home!

And when I suffer hard—my heav'nly home!
I will not question God—my heav'nly home!
Christ suffered  pain and scorn;
and on that glorious morn
He will my head adorn—

      my heav'nly home!

Not long this path on earth—my heav'nly home!

Yes, I will fight with trials—my heav'nly home!

All soon will pass away;

Heaven will then display

Our Father bright as day—

      my heav'nly home!

Christ dwells with His elect—my heav'nly home!

My heart there longs to be—my heav'nly home!

There amidst endless joys,

With Christ I'll then rejoice,

Praise Him with heart and voice—

      my heav'nly home!

This is my attempt to versify the English of Simon Khorolskiy's  
 «Мой в Небе Край Родной».

And yet a different version of this old Russian Hymn:

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And yet one more version from Tambov, Russia

Sunset at the Ocean

The light at day's end
  enlightens family well;
Joy and laughter blend,
  as one with another dwells.

The sand, the waves, the setting sun,
  the joy at sunset with love given;
The mem'ries, thoughts, reflections—
  tangible pictures of eternal heaven!

- D. Benning

He Leads My Soul

There, there He leads my soul:
   through mountains, rivers, brambled lands;
There, there He feeds my soul:
   on manna from His loving hands.
The way be rough and arduous,
   great strain at every turn;
But though the way is filled with pain,
  'tis graced by His presence at each turn.
I'd not have chosen this my path,
   this way so filled with grief;
Nor would I trade these many years,
   because I've seen Him bring relief.
My God, my God—He leads me on,
   and though I know not where;
I know I'm safe within His hands
   and on Him cast my care!
Soon, soon this road shall wind to heav'n—
   by faith I'll see that place;
Then by His own dear Sovereign love,
   I'll see His smiling face.

- D. Benning

On Silverwind

The sunset set no more upon the land
   In twilight dimming at the end of day,
Because the Light did glitter and expand
   To fill the sky and drive the night away.
The air just shook with mighty chords of praise
   As saints and angels sang unto the KING;
In solemn righteousness He then did gaze
   Upon His Bride: His Love for Her—His suffereing!
  
     Dear Lord, Oh! this vision of beauty:
        I thank You for the promise of Home—
     Where the streets are of gold and of rubies—
        Vivid!  so vivid a land unknown!
     
   Take me O Morning Star on Silverwind to that Place far, far away
   Where You are the Lamp like a Sun—Giver of Eternal Day!

- D. Benning

This was written sometime in 1980 or 1981 when I was still in junior college and had just found the music of a group call Silverwind.  They were very '80s sounding and were a little bit early Euro-techno even though it wasn't called that yet.  One of the singers escaped from communist controlled Bulgaria and had an incredible story to tell how he came to believe in Jesus Christ. 

Long story made short: I bought a cassette tape of their album and was fascinated by this one line on the cover under their name, Silverwind:

Take me, O Morning Star, on Silverwind to that Place far, far away.

I was in the midst of my exploring sonnets and  the "sprung rhythm" of Gerald Manley Hopkins, so I suddenly, on a whim, decided that I should incorporate that line into a full-fledged poem.  The above is the result (with slight edits here some thirty-five years later).

In case you're curious what that group sounded like, here is their "Taking the Narrow Street."

The Call and Pull of Home

   I just read an op/ed piece by a native West Virginian. (Click here if you'd like to read it too.)  I began to feel a little bit of nostalgia and pull of the old homestead as I read.  I recalled wandering over the hills and wading through creeks, digging up rocks and making "forts" from sticks and honeysuckle vines.  I remembered also the beauty of the woods as the rain had just stopped, the last drippings from the leaves were still heard occasionally and the mist began to rise as the sun came out and began evaporating the moisture.

   I read all that and then wondered.

   What about Heaven?  Yes, it's a handy segue that West Virginia's unofficial motto is "Almost Heaven, West Virginia!"  (Thank you, John Denver!)  But if West Virginia is almost as in not quite the real thing and I am feeling a little bit of wanting to experience it again, how much more would and should the REAL Heaven bend my soul and my affections to want to come home.

   How did I get a bit attached to West Virginia?  I lived there.  I experienced it.  I was in its hills and breathed the crisp air of its Autumn.  Each morning I woke up in it left a mark on me and upon my mind.  Each night I went to sleep there helped seal its hold on my memories.

   In the same way I become attached to Heaven.  Of course, I don't live in Heaven.  Not yet, at least.  But to the extent that I "live" in the Bible and "live" in God's presence, I will be experiencing more and more of Heaven which will be my home some glad day.  I should wake up in the presence of Heaven by reading God's Word—which is His love letter to me, describing Himself and His Heaven where I'll live.  I should go to sleep each night, bathing my soul in the beauty of His holiness and His presence so that it will cement Heaven's transcendent realities indelibly upon my soul.

   Truly, all my memories should gather around Heaven.  I should hear Heaven's voice in the morning as she calls me to partake of that Heavenly Bread called the Word of God.  I should have that feeling that anticipates that great day when my faith becomes sight, then on that day, my vision clear, I will pass from here to life.  I realize all this and recognize that I am so far from that reality.  Yet, by God's grace, there is the call and the pull of my Heavenly Home within my heart.


- D. Benning

Faith and Love Spring from Hope

"...we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love you have for all God’s people—the faith and love that spring from the hope stored up for you in heaven..."
Col. 1:4 - 5

Faith and Love spring from Hope.  Or in KJV (with Greek) "heard of your faith .... and love...on account of the hope laid up in heaven."

Note: Faith (Eph2:8) and Love(1 Jn. 4:19) are gifts from God; but we are commanded:

• to believe—"have faith"  Mark 5:36
• and to love—"love one another" 1 Jn 4:7 - 8

But our faith is weak so we must look to Christ and cry out, "I believe, help Thou my unbelief."  (Mk 9:24)  So we see here in Col. 1:5 that the source of our faith and love is heaven.  It also gives the source of faith and love's continued growth—hope.  Hope that is stored in heaven.  "Where your treasures are, there your heart will be also."  Hope that you are constantly looking to:  Col 3:1-2— Set your hearts AND your minds on things above.

Therefore to increase our faith and our love we must think on heaven for it is truly noble, right, pure, and lovely.  This is our inheritance (Col. 1:12); it is our goal and our prize and our reward.  This is what we eagerly strain forward to attain.  Such active engagement of the mind in the thoughts and visualization of heaven will surely increase our faith in Him who called us and our love for Him and for His people.

Prelude to Heaven

Rippling tide of light shimmering sound
   Rising, falling—run-spinningly trills:
   Graceful flow of Love and Laughter fills
The listening heart with Joy.  And all around
The running, running rhythm does surround
   The room with growing sheerness—now thrills
   The calm and quiet mind.  And then it spills
Rushing-rivuletly all over—sweep me off the ground...

And then I'm flying away to that city of Heaven,
   Rushing to earth to be pulled back to Him
      —King of all nature and heaven and earth
—Messiah incarnate by death gives us birth
   —Beautiful Savior: of Him all earth sings—
         Praise be to God for musical wings!

- D. Benning

The Wedding Feast

Adorned in riches sits the honored Bride,

    Object of His never dying Love:

    He paid the dowry, brought her now Above

And whispers of Grace—for her crucified.

The Wedding Feast around them spreads so vast:

    They feast and dine on lamb and drink new wine,

    And at their sides there sits a regal lion;

While many guests, their homage pay, file past.

He tells her of His Love that never dies;

    And she looks out across the Crystal Sea

    And asks, “How could have You loved me?”

He draws her closer and hears her quiet sighs:

         Whispering to her of His Sacrifice,

         He causes her to understand and know

                                        Her Christ!

- D. Benning
August 1980

 

Praise

Psalm 93

David Benning, 30 Sep 1982

I hear the rushing-rushing water roar:

The mighty sound of voices lifted up.

They swell and well and gushing forth erupt

And dash about a thousand times before

They bound and sound around again no more;

And silence stills the echoing air with awe

Then majesty—so perfect, without flaw—

Flows down. O, hear again those mighty voices soar.

The Lord is clothed with Majesty and Power:

O Lord, how excellent Your Perfect Name!

Yet You have recognized our lowly frame

And thought of us in Love and did us shower

With the Gift of Your Son—to show that You cared;

And the Promise of Heaven—the Home You’ve prepared!

- D. Benning

Son Splendor

In regal splendor Light from everywhere shines bright
Upon the earth in hues of vividness:
Running, skipping, sliding—gleeful sheerness
From reds, greens, sodden browns, whites—crystallites!—
Reflecting, runjumpingly, from off His Crown with might.
In glory ‘round us streams, beams—does opalesce—
His Righteousness (shimmering, fathomless)
Drapes ‘round us, caresses us with Son Light.

     Angles, brightly clothed in radiance,
     Now lost in dazzle of His gold pavilion,
     Minist’ring in blur of rainbow-spangled dance,
     Blend with praise and upward raise
          The glittering of gold-vermillion!

- D. Benning
July 1981