As we go on our way,
And our Lord hears our every word
Before we even pray,
He watches where the sparrow falls
And where each foot has tread.
He even knows the number,
Of the hairs upon each head.
He makes the clouds His Chariot
And Heaven is His throne,
He walks upon the wings of the wind,
Where eagle has not flown.
The Lord is clothed with magesety,
He clocks Himself with light;
He sits upon the vault of earth
and none can match his might.
The Lords voice makes the deer to calve,
And wilderness to shake,
The Lords voice hews out flames of fire
And makes the cedars break.
The Lord takes pleasure in his own,
Their praise is his delight;
He harkens to their every cry
And puts their fears to flight.
He bottles every tear we cry,
So special in his care
He promised not leave us,
To go with us everywhere.
Creator of the universe,
The Lord of wisdon knew~
He blessed me beyond measure,
The day that he made you!
Connie Cook
4/29/03
"I thank my God on every rememberance of you..."
Phillipians 1:3 KJV