The
Baby Picture
Today
I saw a photo of a Baby
His
brains - like cottage cheese - were falling out
He
was surely worse for wear
Since
his mama pushed him out
This
baby's crime it was confessed
Was
that he was the child of a Christian
His
killing was a message sent
To
those upon whom their blade could be bent!
I
ask you fair, I tell you proud
The
message was received e'er loud
The
only purpose it served you see
Was
to harden my resolve to with King Jesus be!
What
purpose have I to live?
What
reason have I to love
When
those who would dictate my pace
Want
my soul to be their slave?
Listen
well, I tell you true
I'll
only be a slave to the One who
Gave
His life to ransom mine
That's
JESUS CHRIST, the Lord Divine!!
So
If your Soul IS enslaved to Satan
You chose your lot – I have chosen mine!
My
Lord and my Almighty God
Is
coming very soon, triumphantly
His
ransomed children to take take home
Forever
safe, no more to roam!
We'll
live in mansions bright and fair
Wearing
the bright crowns that Jesus promised
On
heads immortal, ever young, ever strong
Singing
Redemption's Song in the Gathered throng!
So
do your worse for that's your best
You
cannot a saint's soul distress
You
may our bodies burn, oh yes
But
victory is the crown we've earned I must stress!
Oh
Calvary, Mount Zion strong
Sing
out loud our battle song
Saints
dead long, saints alive and strong
Praise
our God
We're
to Glory bound!
VICTORY
IN JESUS!!
