Monday, January 19, 2009

I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of Christ Jesus. Phil. 3:14

I'm pressing on the upward way, New heights I'm gaining ev'ry day
Still praying as I'm onward bound, "Lord,plant my feet on higher ground."


Lord,lift me up and let me stand By faith on heaven's table land;
A higher plane than I have found Lord,plant my feet on higher ground.


My heart has no desire to stay Where doubts arise and fears dismay
Tho some may dwell where these abound, My pray'r,my aim is higher ground.


Lord,lift me up and let me stand By faith on heaven's table land;
A higher plane than I have found Lord,plant my feet on higher ground.


I want to live above the world, Tho Satan's darts at me are hurled;
For faith has caught the joyful sound, The song of saints on higher ground.


Lord,lift me up and let me stand By faith on heaven's table land;
A higher plane than I have found Lord,plant my feet on higher ground.


I want to scale the height And catch a gleam of glory bright;
But still I'll pray till heav'n I've found, "Lord,lead me on to higher ground."


Lord,lift me up and let me stand By faith on heaven's table land;
A higher plane than I have found Lord,plant my feet on higher ground.

A
higher plane than I have found Lord,plant my feet on higher ground.




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