The old account was settled long ago
May. 15, 2016
There was a time on earth when in the book of Heav’n
An old account was standing for sins yet unforgiv’n;
My name was at the top, and many things below—
I went unto the Keeper, and settled long ago.
Refrain:
Long ago, long ago,
Yes, the old account was settled long ago;
And the record’s clear today, for He washed my sins away,
When the old account was settled long ago.
The old account was large, and growing every day,
For I was always sinning, and never tried to pay;
But when I looked ahead, and saw such pain and woe,
I said that I would settle—I settled long ago.
When in that happy home, my Savior’s home above,
I’ll sing redemption’s story, and praise Him for His love;
I’ll not forget that book, with pages white as snow,
Because I came and settled, and settled long ago.
O sinner, trust the Lord, be cleansed of all your sin,
For thus He hath provided for you to enter in;
And then if you should live a hundred years below,
Up there you’ll not regret it—you settled long ago
Frank Graham 1902
Share this page
Rock of Ages
May. 11, 2016
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Save from wrath and make me pure.
Not the labor of my hands
Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.
Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless, look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Savior, or I die.
While I draw this fleeting breath,
When my eyes shall close in death,
When I rise to worlds unknown,
And behold Thee on Thy throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.
Augustus M. Toplady 1776
It is well
Apr. 25, 2016
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
Refrain:
It is well with my soul,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin—oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!—
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
But, Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul!
And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.
Horatio G. Spafford 1873
Books
Apr. 12, 2016
On Amazon search using keyword prithika to access books I've authored.
Balm in Gilead
Mar. 30, 2016
Is there no balm in Gilead, and no physician there,
That people still should languish in sickness and despair?
Is there no one to free them, no power to release?
Yes, Jesus died to save from sin, from sickness and disease.
Refrain:
Yes, there is balm in Gilead, a great physician there,
For Jesus died on Calvary our sicknesses to bear;
Then ask in faith believing, His promises are true,
Doubt not, but come receiving, there’s healing now for you.
To Christ, the wondrous Healer, they came at set of sun,
With lame and halt and withered; He healed them, every one.
The leper proved His power—that met Him in the way;
He healed the deaf, the dumb, the blind; He’s just the same today.
The mighty name of Jesus has wondrous healing pow’r,
He’ll banish your diseases—be healed this very hour!
He suffered death to free us; our resurrected Lord
Will send the healing stream to you when you believe His word.
O come, receive your healing, it is the children’s bread,
The table stands before you, with Father’s bounty spread.
Not one shall be excluded; the promises are true;
You may be filled, O hungry one, the table’s spread for you.
Clara M Brooks & Barney E Warren 1911