Excerpts from "Heart Breathings"
By Leonard Ravenhill
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The Calvary Track
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They turned it into a circus,
And the Actor writhed and fell.
They baptized Him with oaths and curses
As He tried to save them from hell.
They burned with the fires of their pagan lust,
He burned with a heart of love.
In the ragged road of a vassal king,
He staggered beneath His load -
Not the chafing wood upon His back,
But a greater, invisible load.
The angels wept at His bloody brow
And the spittle upon His cheek;
They knew He could turn those men to stone,
But He acted - Oh! so meek.
He fell in the dust - from which men came
And from which He would lift them high;
And He carried a billion, billion sins
As He staggered on to die.
He turned not back on that Calvary track
With its grief and humiliation,
He had planned way back in eternity
For us and for our salvation.
Alone in dark Gethsemane -
O Lord, how could it be? -
He had to cry in agony,
"Thy billows go over Me!"
He knew full well, it was black as hell.
If God's will He consummated.
When for men like me, He went to that Tree -
For souls He had created!
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Oh, Wonder of Wonders!
======================
Oh, wonder of wonders!
My God, can it be
That Jesus has died
For one rebel like me?
He lifted my bondage
And soul's misery.
The Lord, King of Glory,
Was wounded for me!
They led Him to trial;
They spit in His face.
He bore it alone -
Oh! Amazing His grace!
He bowed 'neath His burden,
Was scourged in my place,
I'll sing it forever -
"Amazing His Grace!"
With hands full of mercy,
With heart full of good,
My spotless Redeemer
Was nailed to the wood.
He suffered hell's torment
My soul to set free,
Deserted by God
As He hung on the tree.
He died, but He rose!
He extracted death's sting!
He's living enthroned -
My Savior, my King!
Let the earth hear His Voice,
Men and angels proclaim:
"He's coming! He's coming!
"He's coming again!"
With the saints marching in,
(I shall be in that throng!)
In the great "Hallelujahs,"
(I'll join in that song!)
With apostles and prophets,
But best, Lord, with Thee,
I shall live, I shall live,
Eternally!
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The Victor's Pathway
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I could not live without Thee -
My Lord, I would not try!
Earth has ten thousand pitfalls -
I never would get by!
But, with Thy Holy Presence,
Thy Promises inspire;
I tread the victor's pathway -
Dear Lord, I'm climbing higher!
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Thy Glory and Thy Majesty
=========================
Thy Glory and Thy Majesty
Are seldom, Lord, revealed to me.
My sight is dim, my senses dumb,
I seldom dwell on "Kingdom come."
Men dwell among the things that rust,
We live in time - with all its dust.
I would my interests relocate,
And dwell on Thee, my God so great,
And contemplate Thy Majesty,
Concentrate on Thy Deity,
Thus cheat the thieving things of time,
Dwell on Thy Holiness sublime,
Thy matchless beauty fill my gaze,
And worship Thee through all my days!
And then - ah! - then, Eternity,
Boundless, unmarred felicity!
No more to sigh, only to sing
In rapturous praises to our King,
To gaze with rapture on His Face
And sing and sing Amazing Grace!
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Call Back
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If you are far ahead of me
Along life's winding track,
If you have real supremacy
As you carry your loaded pack,
If you have found some energy
That lets you know no lack,
Friend, share your secret now with me -
I ask you, please call back!
Some who went ahead of me
Endured the thumbscrew and the rack.
In biting pain they felt it gain
To endure and not turn back.
They were sawn asunder, torn in two,
Their bodies were beaten black.
But they went the last mile with a song and a smile
For the One Who turned not back!
Now let me tell of the living hell
Some saints endure today;
To be tied in a sack or stretched on the rack
Would seem an easier way.
But they die by the inch, and they do not flinch
As they tread their prison track;
And they inwardly sing to Christ their King
That they'll never, no never, turn back!
It's a steep, rough road that leads to God -
We must climb its hill with a will
To carry our load on the toughest road,
His purpose to fulfill.
There may be strain, there may be pain,
And the food may seem "hard-tack";
But He made it plain, there's eternal gain
For the one who turns not back!
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The Heroic C. T. Studd
======================
Old Charlie was a cricketer,
(As most of you will know);
And when he played the lordly game
He always stole the show.
He "drove" and "pulled" and "pushed" and "cut"
That ball with lots of ease;
And to bewildered bowlers
Charlie was a tiresome tease.
But Charlie quit the game one day;
He gave away his bat
With a "Hallelujah!" and a grin,
And then hung up his hat.
The vision Charlie had received
Made cricket look so minor
He gladly counted all things loss
And sailed away to China.
For Charlie made "The Cambridge Seven"
(Oh, what a regal crew!);
He said, "I'm going now, dear Lord,
What wilt Thou have me do?"
With Smith and Polhill and the rest
He did a man-size task,
And tackled any ugly thing
The Lord did ever ask.
When Charlie got to fifty-three,
He sat and asked himself
If now his work was finished here
And he left on the shelf.
But suddenly the challenge came,
And he, with heart aglow,
Set out to face a greater task
Locked in the dark Congo.
Dear Charlie was "a fool for Christ"
With never a lament,
And counted nothing sacrifice,
But gladly he was spent.
"If Jesus Christ be God," he said,
"And He has died for me,
"O shame to talk of suffering
"In the light of Calvary."
Aye, Charlie loved and dared for God;
No man who lived was bolder.
Oh where's the man who'd ever dare
Call Studd a chocolate soldier?
In God alone he trusted,
And God a hero made,
And in him God prepared a womb
To birth a great Crusade!
In this hour of great declension
We wish the churches would
Furnish ten thousand heroes
With hearts aflame like Studd.
We'd roll back dark apostasy
In every land and nation,
And, through this mighty rescue shop,
Steal millions from damnation.
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Eternal Night
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Eternal night! Eternal night!
How dark that night will be
For millions who've not had the Light
But who had every human right
To share that Light with me!
When we shall stand around Christ's throne,
We'll surely be remiss
That they have never, never known
Salvation through His blood alone,
What tragedy is this!
Oh, how shall I, whose present sphere
Is to be cleansed and free,
Stand uncondemned before Thy throne
While millions die - in hell to groan
For all eternity.
Arm of the Lord, awake, awake,
Thy church cleanse and renew;
And sanctify, endue with power,
Then thrust her forth this very hour
Thy perfect will to do.
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Excerpts taken from
"Heart Breathings" by Leonard Ravenhill.
Used by permission.
Copyright 1995 by
Harvey Christian Publishers, L.L.P.
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Harvey Christian Publishers Inc.
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