Evening Praise Sunday 16 May 2021

O Jesus, I have promised
to serve Thee to the end;
be Thou for ever near me,
my Master and my friend.
I shall not fear the battle
if Thou art by my side,
nor wander from the pathway
if Thou wilt be my guide.

O let me feel Thee near me;
the world is ever near;
I see the sights that dazzle,
the tempting sounds I hear;
my foes are ever near me,
around me and within;
but, Jesus, draw Thou nearer,
and shield my soul from sin.

O let me hear Thee speaking
in accents clear and still,
above the storms of passion,
the murmurs of self-will;
O speak to reassure me,
to hasten or control;
O speak, and make me listen,
Thou guardian of my soul.

O Jesus, Thou hast promised,
to all who follow Thee,
that where Thou art in glory
there shall Thy servant be;
and, Jesus, I have promised
to serve Thee to the end;
O give me grace to follow
my Master and my friend.

O let me see Thy footmarks,
and in them plant mine own;
my hope to follow duly
is in Thy strength alone;
O guide me, call me, draw me,
uphold me to the end;
and then in heaven receive me,
my Saviour and my friend!

Tell me the old, old story
of unseen things above,
of Jesus and His glory,
of Jesus and His love.
Tell me the story simply,
as to a little child,
for I am weak and weary,
and helpless and defiled.

Tell me the old, old story,
tell me the old, old story,
tell me the old, old story
of Jesus and His love.

Tell me the story slowly,
that I may take it in -
that wonderful redemption,
God’s remedy for sin.
Tell me the story often,
for I forget so soon:
the early dew of morning
has passed away at noon.

Tell me the old, old story,
tell me the old, old story,
tell me the old, old story
of Jesus and His love.

Tell me the story softly,
with earnest tones and grave;
Remember! I’m the sinner
whom Jesus came to save.
Tell me the story always,
if you would really be,
in any time of trouble,
a comforter to me.

Tell me the old, old story,
tell me the old, old story,
tell me the old, old story
of Jesus and His love.

Tell me the same old story,
when you have cause to fear
that this world’s empty glory
is costing me too dear.
Yes, and when that world’s glory
is dawning on my soul,
tell me the old, old story;
‘Christ Jesus makes you whole.’

Tell me the old, old story,
tell me the old, old story,
tell me the old, old story
of Jesus and His love.

Make me a channel of Your peace.
Where there is hatred
let me bring Your love;
where there is injury,
Your pardon, Lord;
and where there’s doubt,
true faith in You.

O Master, grant that I may never seek
so much to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved, as to love with all my soul.

Make me a channel of Your peace.
Where there’s despair in life
let me bring hope;
where there is darkness,
only light;
and where there’s sadness,
ever joy.

O Master, grant that I may never seek
so much to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved, as to love with all my soul.

Make me a channel of Your peace.
It is in pardoning
that we are pardoned,
in giving to all men
that we receive;
and in dying
that we’re born to eternal life.

Like a river glorious
is God’s perfect peace,
over all victorious,
in its bright increase:
perfect, yet it floweth
fuller every day;
perfect, yet it groweth
deeper all the way.

Stayed upon Jehovah,
hearts are fully blest;
finding, as He promised,
perfect peace and rest.

Hidden in the hollow
of His blessed hand,
never foe can follow
never traitor stand;
not a surge of worry,
not a shade of care,
not a blast of hurry
touch the spirit there.

Stayed upon Jehovah,
hearts are fully blest;
finding, as He promised,
perfect peace and rest.

Every joy or trial
falleth from above,
traced upon our dial
by the sun of love.
We may trust Him fully
all for us to do;
they who trust Him wholly
find Him wholly true.

Stayed upon Jehovah,
hearts are fully blest;
finding, as He promised,
perfect peace and rest.

O Lord my God!
when I in awesome wonder
consider all the works
Thy hand hath made,
I see the stars,
I hear the mighty thunder,
the power throughout
the universe displayed;

Then sings my soul,
my Saviour God, to Thee,
how great Thou art,
how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul,
my Saviour God, to Thee,
how great Thou art,
how great Thou art!

When through the woods
and forest glades I wander
and hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
when I look down
from lofty mountain grandeur,
and hear the brook,
and feel the gentle breeze;

Then sings my soul,
my Saviour God, to Thee,
how great Thou art,
how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul,
my Saviour God, to Thee,
how great Thou art,
how great Thou art!

And when I think
that God His Son not sparing,
sent Him to die -
I scarce can take it in,
that on the cross
my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin:

Then sings my soul,
my Saviour God, to Thee,
how great Thou art,
how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul,
my Saviour God, to Thee,
how great Thou art,
how great Thou art!

When Christ shall come
with shout of acclamation
and take me home -
what joy shall fill my heart!
Then shall I bow
in humble adoration
and there proclaim,
my God, how great Thou art!

Then sings my soul,
my Saviour God, to Thee,
how great Thou art,
how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul,
my Saviour God, to Thee,
how great Thou art,
how great Thou art!