My Jesus, I Love Thee

My Jesus, I Love Thee

by William R. Featherstone

1)   My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine
For Thee all the follies of sin I resign
My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

2)   I love Thee because Thou hast first loved me
And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree
I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

3)   I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death
And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath
And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

4)   In mansions of glory and endless delight
I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright
I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now. 

A little about William R. Featherstone . . .

Born and raised in Montreal, Quebec, William Featherstone most likely wrote this hymn at the age of sixteen on the occasion of his conversion and/or baptism. He sent the text to his aunt in Los Angeles, who sent it to friends in London, where it was published anonymously in the London Hymn Book to a now forgotten tune. Adoniram Judson Gordon found it, wrote a new tune for it, and also published it anonymously in The Service of Song for Baptist Churches. It wasn’t until around 1930, fifty years after its publication, that enough research had been done to establish Featherstone as the author, who had died at the young age of 28. Today, it is a much loved hymn of assurance and confession of faith, with words of comfort and peace. And perhaps bolstering the power of the text is Featherstone’s story itself. A young man with no connections, who simply wrote a poem one night about his own faith, has, unbeknownst to him, come to bless millions. God certainly works in mysterious ways to use the gifts and talents of his people.

Because He LIVES . . .

We’ve all read the agonizing stories . . . 

  • Seasoned hiker in his 40s heads off alone, gets off the trail, slips and falls knocking himself unconscious. Wakes up with injuries and desperate for rescue. 
  • Exhausted mother leaves her young children home with her husband while she shops for groceries. She falls asleep on her way home and drives off the road leaving no skid marks. Badly injured, she is unable to summon help.
  • Prisoner unjustly incarcerated during a war with no way of communicating with the outside world that he or she is still alive.

In each instance, the distraught victims
cling to hope because of their
overwhelming desire to live
and again be with those they love.

During these times we find ourselves in and facing this progressive disease day in and day out, what sustains me is being CONVINCED that my Savior, Jesus, LIVES and clinging to the PROMISE of being with HIM for all of eternity.

Everything else pales in comparison.


Wikipedia – Gaither

Uploaded to YouTube 2012
Uploaded to YouTube 2017

All Important Touch

Our third Bloodhound’s home was Thousand Oaks in southern California, and her name was Shelby. Her owner’s home was repossessed and they were no longer able to keep her. Concerned neighbors took her in, but that didn’t last long. Shelby was passed off to a woman named Olivia who lived several hours north of Thousand Oaks. Olivia was temporarily sheltering dogs who were displaced due to home repos and military deployments. A neighborhood girl was also named Shelby. She had a reputation of being a bully, so Olivia’s daughters changed the Bloodhound’s name to Sadie. Alas, Olivia was unable to find a home for Sadie so she drove one hour north and relinquished Sadie to Woods Humane Society in San Luis Obispo. That’s where Sadie spent the next 40 days until we discovered and adopted her on July 3, 2010. Jon didn’t think the name Sadie suited her. My words to Jon—”If you allow us to adopt this Bloodhound, you can name her whatever you want.” Jon liked the name Annie.

When we found Annie, she was about 15 months old and had been passed around four times. Imagine how confusing that was for a young Bloodhound! She never forgot the insecurity and fear that stems from rejection and not putting down lasting roots. So when we found Emma at San Luis Obispo County Animal Services in January 2012, Annie wanted to make sure she felt welcome and secure in our home. Emma had been picked up as a stray in nearby Arroyo Grande at only seven weeks old. The day before we discovered her, Emma had been adopted by someone with a very big dog. The following day the adopter promptly returned Emma to Animal Services saying they were afraid their dog was going to kill Emma! Traumatic for a small puppy. When an Animal Services volunteer took Emma outside to meet Annie, 4½ pound Emma took one look at Annie and let out a blood curdling scream that sounded like a human who had just been terrorized. She was so afraid! Jon carried Emma to our car while I completed the adoption paperwork. 

What happened next still amazes us. Jon was sitting in the front passenger seat with Emma in his lap, I was behind the wheel, and Annie was in the back seat. Annie instinctively put her long Bloodhound nose in-between the front seats, reached over and touched Emma’s nose with her nose. No scream. No panic. Just superb reassuring communication between a Bloodhound and an eight week old mixed-breed terrier. From that moment forward, Annie and Emma developed the most wonderful relationship imaginable.

Annie and Emma (February 2012)

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Settle for nothing less

My favorite instructor during paralegal studies was and still is a brilliant, witty civil defense attorney. Always dressed to a T in his smart suit, tie, and polished shoes, he excelled in making Introduction to Civil Procedure a captivating course. Each week, after assuming his place in the front of the room, he emphatically declared—followed by a long-drawn-out pause:

“Class . . . PEOPLE LIE”

 

Why did he repetitiously accentuate something so obvious? Because he wanted his students to keep at the very forefront of their minds and never forget:

People will look you directly in the eye and
without so much as a flinch . . .
LIE TO YOUR FACE!

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