Sunday, March 17, 2019

The Good Shepherd has broke my chains

The wind is blowing in the trees.
I hear the sound of the morning dove bidding me hello.
I wonder what has happened
Where did the time go?



 You filled me Lord so long ago.
I felt your cleansing touch.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have forgotten what you did for me.
When you reached down from heaven and rescued me.

My life a vapor, a whisp of wind, for I have sinned so much.
The enemy bargained for my soul, I'm sure he plead a good case.
But you looked him squarely in the eye and said you leave this place.

This one I have plans for her, plans you do not know.
Each chain you have used to bind her.
I am breaking one by one.
Chain of shame
Chain of fear
You have no claim on her
Chain of pain
You have nothing to gain.
For she is free in Jesus name.
I am covering her
I am sheltering her under my wings.
So satan you are finished
It is time for you to leave.

For I am her deliverer
I have set her free
This child has always belonged to me
So satan you must leave.





I look up, and I see the Shepherd.
He is looking down at me.
He takes my hand, and lifts me up, and wipes the dirt away.
He takes the old garment that I once wore and sets it to the side.
I feel his nail pierced hands on my shoulders, and almost shudder away.
Do I deserve this Lord, I have sinned in many ways.

Yes, my beloved, I am your Shepherd, I have laid my life down for you.
Look at my hands look at my feet.

For I have felt each of your defeats.
For I have chosen you to be my daughter
For I am your King.
Come join me in my Father's kingdom
See what I have prepared for you.
I am giving you a new garment, this one is not stained.
Come now my beloved, for you now bear my name.

As I take the new garment, and bow to my King
I finally remember, and now I can sing.

You have given me beauty from the ashes
The oil of joy, instead of mourning.
A garment of praise instead of heaviness.
Come, my beloved,
I hear his voice, above the crashing waves.
Waves of mercy, waves of grace.
Fill me, Lord, for I seek your face
You are returning me back to clay
A child of the King
An instrument of praise.

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