I can see no end, Lord, to my weakness,
Except you lend me Your Strength,
Or end to my failure unless
I find my success in You.

The pit of despair has no bottom,
No hope can be seen at all;
The scope of disaster is endless,
Until in Your Hand I fall.

I can see no end to Your Mercy;
I can see no end to Your Grace.
No harm can ever befall me,
As long as I see Your Face.

I can see no end to the power
That Your Love can bestow on me;
Or the good I can do while trusting
In Your Grace to set me free.

There is no end; just no end at all.

I Can See No End

Sunday 17th December 2006

© 2007 Christopher Shennan

What I Want For Christmas

Sunday 17th December 2006

© 2007 Christopher Shennan

What I want for Christmas is
A faithful heart and true,
A purity of heart and mind;
A noble spirit, too.
I want a knee that bends
At the mention of Your Name,
And a life that glorifies the One
Who carried all my blame.

What I want for Christmas is
The power to turn from sin;
The power to proclaim the Truth
And usher sinners in.
I want a love transcending this
Love that I've gained so far;
A love that sacrifices all
To reach the shining stars.

What I want for Christmas is
The strength to follow on
In the footsteps of my Master,
And the victories He has won:
To stand against the tempter's power
By leaning on Your Breast,
And find that while I'm leaning
I've found Your perfect Rest.

You can storm the gates of Heaven
To get the things you need,
Or seek your neighbours blessing,
And long for noble deeds.
In prayer you can accomplish
What kingdoms fail to do,
And all this power is given
In prayer, my friend, to you.

In Prayer

Thursday 24th August 2006

© 2007 Christopher Shennan

Beautiful Things

Friday March 16th, 2007

© 2007 Christopher Shennan

I saw a beautiful thing:
A tear in a mother's eye;
A drop of love squeezed from her heart
As the child she had borne passed by.
You could see in the tear reflected
Her hopes and her fears and dreams,
And the prayer she had spent and was spending
With no thought of herself, it seemed.

I heard a beautiful thing:
A tender word that was spoken,
Sent forth with a gentle touch
To someone whose heart was broken.
The word and the touch brought some healing
To a soul who stumbled and fell;
And I knew that somehow the future
Of that soul would soon be well.

I received a beautiful thing:
A smile that was warm and sincere,
And the hurt I'd been feeling inside
Was then so easy to bear.
For the smile had come at a juncture
When my heart could have gone astray.
But the smile, that sweet smile,
Washed all that was bitter away.

I encountered a beautiful thing:
An old rugged cross on a hill,
And the sins of a lifetime were taken
And purged from my heart and will.
There's nowhere this cross can't reach me
When I humble my heart in prayer;
And the Saviour Who loved me comes gently
And bears all my burdens there.

Time:
A scratch on the face of Eternity;
Yet we are so small, time seems long
And stretches beyond the horizon ---
Till near the end, and we find ourselves
Standing on the edge of Eternity.
Then the ledge seems narrow,
And the drop endless ...
Until you lift your eyes
And see God's Son arise
With healing in His wings.
Then your heart beats faster
And anticipation flings itself into Eternity.
Time's toil, its travail, its conflict and
Its pain,
Lies forgotten on Time's shore.
Looking back, you see it as it is ---
A scratch on the face of Eternity.

Time

Tuesday 3rd April 2007

© 2007 Christopher Shennan

Woman

Sunday 28th January 2007

© 2007 Christopher Shennan

I can hardly believe, Lord,
You made Woman from something
So hard as a rib --- a bone..
This alone fills me with wonder:
You take what is hard and make it soft ---
Soft in flesh --- soft and gentle of nature ---
Made for Man to cherish --- lavish affection upon.

But the Enemy has come, sowing his seed,
Together with his minions, wanting her freed
From the ancient mould.
They're making her hard these days,
Trying to change God's recipe
From Soft to Hard.

The Enemy has done this,
Taking the softness God created,
And turning it back into bone.
Only God can reverse,
Immerse the hard modern woman
Once more into the tenderness of His own heart.

God will give her:
Softness with inner strength;
Sweetness with inner courage;
Sympathy with inner wisdom,
And passion with an inner purity.

This is God's design.

I want my heart to sing
The songs of praise I find;
The kind that come unbidden
From truth of heart and mind.
I never want a false note
To rise to Heaven's Throne,
And every pure and selfless thought,
I want to be my own.

I want my heart to sing
In perfect harmony
With every purpose of my God ---
For all Eternity.
I never want a sour note
To mar my sweetest praise;
I want to see my Saviour's smile
As on His face I gaze.

I want my heart to sing
The songs that saints of old
Have sung with pure intent,
Much more than purest gold.
I never want the faintest
Impurity entering in;
I only want His glad embrace
As He bids my heart to sing.

What I Want

Wednesday 13th October 2004
– Wednesday 1st August 2007

© 2007 Christopher Shennan

By the Touch of His Hand

Wednesday 21st February 2007

© 2007 Christopher Shennan

He moves through this world
Where the hurting ones dwell,
And the sin-ravaged people
On the pathway to hell.
Yet He moves with compassion,
And the Healer's fine art:
By the touch of His hand,
And the warmth of His heart.

There are sinners still bound
By the chains of their sin,
That He heals with a word
And welcomes them in.
He lifts them right up
And gives a new start:
By the touch of His hand
And the warmth of his heart.

My Master still moves
Through the world night and day,
Still ready to rescue
Each one gone astray.
His arms are outstretched
To heal and impart:
By the touch of His hand
And the warmth of His heart.

My Master now calls me
To follow His lead
And reach out in mercy
To all those in need.
He wants pure devotion,
In whole, not in part:
By the touch of my hand
And the warmth of my heart.