I rose, went forth (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
My chains released from worry, the world turned inward to my sacred Lord I rose, went forth feeling his love ...
My chains released from worry, the world turned inward to my sacred Lord I rose, went forth feeling his love ...
In this world of illusion of lies of self-reliance of the shoulder to the wheel and lifting up our own ...
Why so timid, O Christian we should be singing not focused on the here and now focused on our tomorrows ...
Liberty in this offering this blessing of Christ to loose the bonds of captivity the chains of this life Worry ...
May I shout sing out loud my heart is free my chains are gone My prayer, oh Lord only to ...
When I focus on you only on you, my Savior, my God away from the world my chains fell off ...
My heart free, unbound by the chains I rose, and followed thee Oh how I wish, this was the way ...
The question hanging like the Sword of Damocles offered up that we would hear the message for us in the ...
God with us waiting for our stillness to center ourselves to slough off the world In God's silence holy service ...
Meaning, peace in our stillness centering on God in the truth of his words Love unending in sending the Son ...
The words of Christ speaking to us each of us hearing his words just for us Do not be worried ...
If we could let go leave our worries if we could be like the grasses and simply be How much ...
What we are worth far more than the grasses the lilies of the field and the birds of the air ...
Our lives so much more valuable than our constant struggles our worries worth far less than the energy we invest ...
The scripture's message teaching us not to worry embedded in the love of God In providing the Savior the Son ...
If we need to more fully understand the words of the scripture if we are to believe we can trust ...
In turning to him in our struggles letting down our burdens in releasing our cares to the four winds His ...
Not letting go carrying our worry with us always like a dog with a bone So much comfort peace in ...
Only indigestion discomfort, blood pressure not much more does our worry produce The folly of worry that we could fix ...
The wood of the barn the creosote bleeding brown shoe polish and maple syrup colors of the boards weathered and ...
Cleopas and the other traveler like us, confused, afraid sometimes not fully understanding the story human hearts, human comprehension of ...
Weathered and worn But oh so proudly The old barn preened in the summer Mid-day sun He had seen her ...
He gave the solid rail a hateful kick. From far away there came an answering tick And then another tick. ...
I met a lady from the South who said (You won't believe she said it, but she said it): "None ...
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I ...
The Things that never can come back, are several -- Childhood -- some forms of Hope -- the Dead -- ...
In most self-portraits it is the face that dominates: Cezanne is a pair of eyes swimming in brushstrokes, Van Gogh ...
1. Dear relatives and friends, when my last breath Grows large and free in air, don't call it death -- ...
A RETURN TO THE COVER OF THIS BOOK Dear Trout Fishing in America: I met your friend Fritz in Washington ...
Just when I thought there wasn't room enough for another thought in my head, I had this great idea-- call ...
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