Monday, May 18, 2009

Wounded For Me

Wounded for me, wounded for me,
There on the cross He was wounded for me;
Gone my transgressions, and now I am free,
All because Jesus was wounded for me.

Dying for me, dying for me,
There on the cross He was dying for me;
Now in His death my redemption I see,
All because Jesus was dying for me.

Risen for me, risen for me,
Up from the grave He has risen for me;
Now evermore from death's sting I am free,
All because Jesus has risen for me.

Living for me, living for me,
Up in the skies He is living for me;
Daily He's pleading and praying for me,
All because Jesus is living for me.

Coming for me, coming for me,
Soon in the air He is coming for me;
Then with what joy His dear face I shall see,
Oh, how I praise Him! He's coming for me.

Words and Music by:
William G. Ovens (Verse 1)
Gladys W. Roberts (Verses 2-5)

Isaiah 53:
Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the LORD revealed?
[2] For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.
[3] He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
[4] Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
[5] But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.
[6] All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.
[7] He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.
[8] He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken.
[9] And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth.
[10] Yet it pleased the LORD to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the LORD shall prosper in his hand.
[11] He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities.
[12] Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he hath poured out his soul unto death: and he was numbered with the transgressors; and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.

Friday, May 8, 2009

God Leads Us Along

Verse 1:
In shady, green pastures, so rich and so sweet,
God leads His dear children along;
Where the water's cool flow bathes the weary one's feet,
God leads His dear children along.

Verse 2:
Sometimes on the mount where the sun shines so bright,
God leads His dear children along;
Sometimes in the valley, in darkest of night,
God leads His dear children along.

Verse 3:
Though sorrows befall us and Satan oppose,
God leads His dear children along;
Through grace we can conquer, defeat all our foes,
God leads His dear children along.

Verse 4:
Away from the mire, and away from the clay,
God leads His dear children along;
Away up in glory, eternity's day,
God leads His dear children along.

Some through the waters, some through the flood,
Some through the fire, but all through the blood;
Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,
In the night season and all the day long.


"God Leads Us Along"
Words and Music by: George A. Young, 19th century

The author and composer of “God Leads Us Along” was an obscure preacher and carpenter who spent a lifetime humbly serving God in small rural areas. Often the salary was meager and life was difficult for his family. Through it all, however, George Young and his wife never wavered in their loyalty to God and His service.

The story is told that after much struggle and effort, the George Young family was finally able to move into their own small home, which they had built themselves. Their joy seemed complete. But then, while Young was away holding meetings in another area, hoodlums who disliked the preacher’s gospel message set fire to the house, leaving nothing but a heap of ashes. It is thought that out of that tragic experience, George Young completed this hymn, which reaffirms so well the words of Job 35:10: “God my Maker, who gives songs in the night.”

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

If Only I Had Known

If I had only known the road would be so long
I would have danced a little slower
I would have sang a different song

If I had only known
when I was young and free
I would have made so many different choices
Taken better care of me

If I had only known
the road would be so long
I would have stood in the rain longer
Moved far away from here
Walked on a beach in the moonlight
Watched the sun set into night

It is not for me to know how long the road will be
I need to thank God for the blessings
He has indeed bestowed on me
I will dance a little slower
And sing a different song
For God is traveling by my side
He has been there all along

~by Julie Pendergast ~

Saturday, April 25, 2009

I Dreamed A Dream

Go be inspired.... Click the link below.

You're never too old to make your wish come true.

Dream A Dream!

Friday, April 17, 2009

Were It Not For Grace

Verse 1:
Time measured out my days – life carried me along—
In my heart I yearned to follow God,
But knew I’d never be so strong.
I looked around the world and surely Heaven cannot be gained.
People working to attain,
But human effort is all in vain.

Were it not for grace I can tell you where I’d be:
Wandering down some lonely road to nowhere with my salvation up to me.
I know how that would go – the battles I would face—
Forever running, but losing the race...
Were it not for grace.

Verse 2:
So here is all my praise – expressed with all my heart!
Offered to the Lord Who took my place
And ran the race I could not start.
And though He knew in full just how much His love would cost
He still walked that final mile to Calvary’s cross
So I would not be lost.

Were it not for grace I can tell you where I’d be:
Wandering down some lonely road to nowhere with my salvation up to me.
I know how that would go – the battles I would face—
Forever running, but losing the race...
Were it not for grace—
Forever running, but losing the race...
Were it not for grace.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

"I Was The Nail"

(Click image for enlargement)
© Heather Vires "Design" 2006, all rights reserved.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

"Broken Dreams"

© Heather Vires "Design" 2007, all rights reserved.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

I'd Rather Have Jesus

© Heather Vires "Design" 2007, all rights reserved.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Come Thou Fount

© Heather Vires "Design" 2007, all rights reserved.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

"The Road Not Taken" (by Robert Frost)

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

(by Robert Frost)

Love Still Standing

A love with which someone has toyed—
Now broken, haunted, and annoyed:

Now I know – I realize,
Though hard to see through human eyes

A love the world has been demanding—
When gone through pain, this love still standing.

A love no evil can ever touch,
And anything asked is not too much.

Such love is rare, so hard to find—
Most love, when hurt, is left behind.

But, Lord, I want an understanding
Of this love – this love still standing.

© Heather Vires 2004, all rights reserved.

My Soul Found Rest

In the quiet of the night
I dreamed of how I have been blessed,
And in remember all You’ve done,
There, my soul found rest.

And after traveling a long road,
Completing some sort tiring quest—
In reaching home and embracing sleep,
There, my soul found rest.

When worried or concerned I be
You remind me that You know best—
And I let go of anxiousness.
There, my soul finds rest.

And when I’m burdened down with care,
Struggling with some trial or test,
You left my load and carry me—
There, my soul found rest.

© Heather Vires 2005, all rights reserved.

My Plea

Lord, when I’m feeling all alone,
And I’ve no one there for me,
I just take hold of Your hand that won’t let me go.
And when I feel cast upon the stones,
And darkness is all I see,
Lord, plant a seed of hope down in my soul.

Lord, when my spirit’s running dry,
And I’ve no place left to hide,
And when my prayers are only words of empty air—
Lord, wipe away the tears I cry
When I fail, when I am tried—
Lord, let Your peace come shatter my despair.

Lord, this my plea to You is raised;
Shelter me within Your arms,
Lord, satisfy me with Your perfect grace.
Forever, Lord, Your name I’ll praise,
With You there are ten-thousand charms—
Lord, lead me Home so I may see Your face.

© Heather Vires 2005, all rights reserved.

His Life For Mine

This song is just so beautiful to me. Three of my Preacher’s kids sang this in the Sunday Evening Service at church on Sunday: Tricia, Dan, and Joy. They did a wonderful job – and I know that all three of them have testimonies that are evidence of this song. Tricia and her husband plan to be missionaries to Spanish-speaking people. Dan is a preacher, and he and his wife plan to be church-planting missionaries when God gives them the go-ahead. Joy just got married on January 2, 2009 to a wonderful young man who is a preacher. Currently he is the assistant Pastor at his church in Virginia. I had the privilege to here James (Joy’s husband) preach on Sunday night at my church – what a wonderful sermon! Perhaps I will write a post in reference to his sermon in the near future! I’m so thankful for each of these individuals and the encouragement they’ve been in my life. So, without further hesitation, here is the song they sang so angelically. Originally sung by the Talley Trio, it’s titled:

“His Life For Mine”

Verse 1:
His heart was broken, mine was mended.
He became sin, now I am clean.
The cross He carried bore my burden.
The nails that held Him set me free.

His life for mine, His life for mine –
How could it ever be?
That He would die, God's Son would die
To save a wretch like me –
What love divine, He gave His life for mine.

Verse 2:
His scars of suffering brought me healing.
He spilled His blood to fill my soul.
His crown of thorns made me royalty.
His sorrow gave me joy untold!

His life for mine, His life for mine –
How could it ever be?
That He would die, God's Son would die
To save a wretch like me –
What love divine, He gave His life for mine.

He was despised and rejected, stripped of His garments and oppressed –
I am loved and accepted and I wear a robe of righteousness!

His life for mine, His life for mine –
How could it ever be?
That He would die, God's Son would die
To save a wretch like me –
What love divine, He gave His life for mine.
What love divine, He gave His life for mine!

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Meeting With God At Night

As the wind blew through the night,
I walked through the forest with
A sense of majesty all around me.
I looked through the trees and saw
The penetrating moonbeams. They
Seemed to hold a power – not their own,
Mind you, but a borrowed power too great to
Explain. There was no singing of the birds,
For they had rested their wings in their
Nests for the night. I was alone. God’s
Glory was not dimmed by the darkness,
But illuminated. I kept walking
Though; I had a meeting with God and
I could not keep Him waiting.
I walked the entire pathway alone. Yet,
God’s creation seemed to keep me company. It was
Almost as if I was with God Himself. It
Was so tranquil; so serene; so beautiful.
I had met with God. I was not alone.

© Heather Vires 2004, all rights reserved.

Outcry of My Heart

Have you ever wondered at the fact that
God, Who is all-powerful, all-knowing, and
All-perfect, has no memory of the past
Wrongs of His children? He forgets the lies,
The hatred, the envy, and the lust. How
Is it then, that we, who are less than
God, have found a way to remember the
Sins of ourselves and others, and to hold
On to the blame, guilt, bitterness, and shame?

And still more perplexing is when God, Who
Delights when we do good deeds,
Considers them to be nothing more than filthy
. While we, when men do good, praise
And glorify and exalt as if they have
Discovered a new way of life. Has
Mankind wandered so far from what
It once longed to mirror? Oh, that we
Would return to the once burning desire
That drove our infirm race to go on! Oh,
That we would learn to forget the past
Wrongs of our brothers and ourselves, and
Not praise the filthy rags that should wash our world.

© Heather Vires 2005, all rights reserved.

Psalm 151

In my distress,
While on me press
The fears of life,
I’ll trust in Thee,
Who made me free—
And bore my pain and strife.

When them that hate
Stand at my gate—
I’ll say to Thee a prayer.
I know You’ll hear,
And hold me near—
You’ll prove me that You’re there.

When grief and war
My life, abhor,
I know You’ll stand by me—
And with Your hand
You’ll help me stand—
My Stay I know You’ll be.

And with death’s hold,
I’ll face it bold,
For I am Heaven bound—
For, true, the end’s
The Christian’s friend;
New life in Thee is found!

© Heather Vires 2005, all rights reserved.

Untitled Poem

In that calm and quiet place
I found myself on my knees
Begging You for Your grace,
And help to meet my need.
You were all too glad to help,
You reached down and picked me up,
Emptied me of all myself,
And overflowed my cup.

You are my one and only joy—
Could I express to You with words,
Repay that love that You employ…
Unworthy songs You’ve heard before.
My tears, like rivers, join the sea,
I’m so content in all I have—
You’re faithfulness is plain to see,
You lead me gently with Your staff.

I have but one undying wish:
You’ll lead me to the gates of Heav’n—
And when I reach that beauty bliss,
I’ll join the faithful called, eleven.
And when I walk those streets of gold,
I’ll hold on to that trusted hand.
And still, the half has not been told—
Before the throne of God I’ll stand.

© Heather Vires 2005, all rights reserved.

Starless Night

No stars are shining on this night,
No moon is glowing bold—
It’s as if it were a nightmare,
So dark; so still; so cold.

There are no shadows on the lake,
No singing of the birds—
No wind is blowing on this night,
No sound of song or word.

No stars are shining in my life,
No moon to be my friend—
My life is like a nightmare that
Will never have an end.

There are no friends for company,
No chirping of the birds—
No wind, yet many raging storms;
My cries cannot be heard.

Be still, my soul. Oh! Sorrow not,
The sun still shines each day—
So must the darkness have its turn
At times along the way.

© Heather Vires 2005, all rights reserved.

Click here to see my poem featured at --

Still There Was Love

A meal so unusual from all in the past
A traitor among all the ones You loved best—
A group so oblivious to the deeper meaning of Your words—
A midnight walk to a garden with Your friends,
A plea to the Father: “Not My will, but Yours in the end.”
Sweat drops of blood watering the roses – the symbol
Of love – love You came to show us.

A crown coming towards you with torches and swords,
A kiss of betrayal with cold, empty words—
A miracle of healing for a man who came to help arrest You—
Your disciples deserted You and left You to the mob,
Your best friend denied You before the crow of the cock—
The look in Your eyes when he looked at You said it all…

A mockery of a trial by mean, cruel men,
You were beaten and spat on again and again—
A long, dusty road paved the way to the cross,
Made to carry Your destiny upon Your bloody back.
A slave had to help You; You were hurting and weak—
As a sheep to the slaughter, You were forgiving and meek…

Hung between criminals; laughed at and scorned—
Still, there was love, though you were broken and torn…
Nailed to the cross, my debt to be paid,
You could’ve come down, yet You chose to stay.
A prayer for sinners of mercy and grace:
“Father, forgive them; I’ve taken their place.”
The sky quickly blackened, as the loud thunder roared—
The back of the Father was turned toward You, Lord…

More painful than all of the beatings You got
Was when the Father turned His face away from Your cross.
“It’s finished!” You cried – then gave up the ghost,
Satan and sinners were sure You had lost.
Yet wrong once again, You rose from the dead;
Conquered the grave, just as You had said—
You ascended to Heaven to sit on Your throne.
You’re the King, all victorious – You’re worthy alone!

Yet all through the suffering, You loved every man—
Knowing who’d hate You, You still gave them a chance.
Mercy and grace in unending flow,
You gave to us Your great love to show.
Rejected and beaten, despised, denied, and scorned—
Still there was love to give to the world.
Amazing, amazing the price that You paid—
The richness and abundance of love that can’t fade!

© Heather Vires 2005, all rights reserved.

Friday, March 13, 2009

"The Prisoner's Last Prayer"

The scene is the State Penitentiary,
Cell #1 on death row –
The time is one hour before midnight
When the prisoner is scheduled to go –
He kneels along by his little bunk bed,
His demeanor is hopeless despair –
His head is bowed, his eyes are closed,
And his lips are moving in this prayer:

Dear Lord,
I’ve been so wicked; I don’t know where to start –
I want to fess up while I can.
I’ve no right to ask Your forgiveness, I know;
I’ve no right to ask, but I am.

I’ve never been much for going to church –
Momma always told me I should.
I’ve no good points whatsoever to offer,
‘Cause, Lord, I ain’t never been good.

I’ve done many things that I shouldn’t have,
And not many things that I should –
And, Lord, I have hurt a whole lot of people –
I would change all of that if I could.

I’ve broken most all the laws and the rules
And all the Commandments, as well;
I’ve stolen and cheated, I’ve schemed and lied,
My sins are too many to tell.

The worst one of all, Lord, the reason I’m here
In this cold cell, Heaven forbid:
In the Bible ‘tis written, “Thou shall not kill!”
Oh Lord, have mercy – I did.

The preacher man told me if I would repent
And confess my sin to You,
That You would have mercy and forgive my sin,
And believe on your name, and I do.

I’m not worthy to ask Your forgiveness
For all the things I’ve done in my span;
I’m not worthy to ask, but I am.

The lights went dim in the prison that night
While society collected its toll;
A life was snuffed out, justice was served,
But now what will become of his soul?

His critics all claimed he could never reach Heaven –
He was destined for Hell instead –
For the hideous crimes this man had committed
God would never forgive – BUT HE DID!

(Author Unknown)

"My Advocate" (by Martha Snell Nicholson)

I sinned. And straightway, post-haste, Satan flew
Before the presence of the most high God,
And made a railing accusation there.
He said, "This soul, this thing of clay and sod,
Has sinned. 'Tis true that he has named Thy name,
But I demand his death, for Thou hast said,
'The soul that sinneth, it shall die.'
Shall not Thy sentence be fulfilled?
Is justice dead?
Send now this wretched sinner to his doom.
What other thing can righteous ruler do?
"And thus he did accuse me day and night,
And every word he spoke, O God, was true!

Then quickly One rose up from God's right hand,
Before Whose glory angels veiled their eyes. He spoke,
"Each jot and tittle of the law
Must be fulfilled; the guilty sinner dies!
But wait -- suppose his guilt were all transferred
To Me, and that I paid his penalty!
Behold My hands, My side, My feet! One day
I was made sin for him, and died that he
Might be presented, faultless, at Thy throne!"
And Satan flew away. Full well he knew
That he could not prevail against such love,
For every word my dear Lord spoke was true!

written by Martha Snell Nicholson


By far, this is one of my most favorite poems ever written. I am a huge fan of poetry, having written well over 150 to 200 poems myself. I memorized it in school when I was younger, and it has stuck with me (most of it, anyways) through the years. It speaks such truth - and I love every word of the message it gives. She truly captured what it's like to stand before a Holy God, completely guilty with seemingly no hope at all -- But there, at the right hand of the Father, stands Jesus and He's ever interceding! What Grace! What Mercy! What Love!

"The Dash" (by Linda Ellis)

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end

He noted that first came her date of her birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years

For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own;
The cars, the house, the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy is being read
With your life’s actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?

© 1996 All Rights Reserved, Linda Ellis