Post by Cindy on Jul 5, 2019 9:11:39 GMT -5
Ours is the fellowship which lays claim to no right.
For to serve others is our most cherished delight.
To our Master’s door post we have gladly drawn near
And humbly asked Him to push the awl through our ear.
We only move here or there when the Spirit blows,
For we’re those who follow the Lamb where’er He goes.
We’ve neither desire nor right to do as we please.
As His blood bought ones we don’t crave the life of ease.
We’re the servants of Him Who is lowly and meek.
When we receive a blow we turn the other cheek,
Nor retaliate though the world revile or sneer.
We love our enemies since to Him they are dear.
We expect to be hated for our Master’s sake
For bond-slaves deserve no less than their Master’s fate,
But pain will be changed to praise when He parts the cloud
And we’re raised to meet him as the trumpets sound aloud.
Love incarnate in native meekness condescends,
To make us His bond-slaves, and yet to make us friends.
So while we’re slaves ‘tis true—we’re freedmen without peer.
We are the redeemed from whom Love has cast out fear.
We bear the brand of Him Who died upon the cross
—Thus we are seen by this world as mere refuse and dross.
Yet we are o’ercomers—our life we hold not dear.
Did the world know our Christ it’d surely cease to jeer.
Yes, He’s fore’er the Potter—we’re fore’er the clay.
As to how the vessel’s used—it is His to say.
‘Tis ours to yield—day after day—year after year—
To be made more like Him and much less a veneer.
When He made us His slaves He also made us sons.
Those who own Him as Lord He calls His holy ones.
Yoked to our Master we walk with no dread nor fear—
For we are—the Society of the Pierced Ear.
“But if your servant says to you, “I do not want to leave you,” because he loves you and your family and is well off with you, then take an awl and push it through his ear lobe into the door, and he will become your servant for life. Do the same for your maidservant.” (Deuteronomy 15:16–17)
For to serve others is our most cherished delight.
To our Master’s door post we have gladly drawn near
And humbly asked Him to push the awl through our ear.
We only move here or there when the Spirit blows,
For we’re those who follow the Lamb where’er He goes.
We’ve neither desire nor right to do as we please.
As His blood bought ones we don’t crave the life of ease.
We’re the servants of Him Who is lowly and meek.
When we receive a blow we turn the other cheek,
Nor retaliate though the world revile or sneer.
We love our enemies since to Him they are dear.
We expect to be hated for our Master’s sake
For bond-slaves deserve no less than their Master’s fate,
But pain will be changed to praise when He parts the cloud
And we’re raised to meet him as the trumpets sound aloud.
Love incarnate in native meekness condescends,
To make us His bond-slaves, and yet to make us friends.
So while we’re slaves ‘tis true—we’re freedmen without peer.
We are the redeemed from whom Love has cast out fear.
We bear the brand of Him Who died upon the cross
—Thus we are seen by this world as mere refuse and dross.
Yet we are o’ercomers—our life we hold not dear.
Did the world know our Christ it’d surely cease to jeer.
Yes, He’s fore’er the Potter—we’re fore’er the clay.
As to how the vessel’s used—it is His to say.
‘Tis ours to yield—day after day—year after year—
To be made more like Him and much less a veneer.
When He made us His slaves He also made us sons.
Those who own Him as Lord He calls His holy ones.
Yoked to our Master we walk with no dread nor fear—
For we are—the Society of the Pierced Ear.
“But if your servant says to you, “I do not want to leave you,” because he loves you and your family and is well off with you, then take an awl and push it through his ear lobe into the door, and he will become your servant for life. Do the same for your maidservant.” (Deuteronomy 15:16–17)
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