The church is not perfect, but woe to the man who finds pleasure in pointing out her imperfections! Christ loved his church, and let us do the same. I have no doubt that the Lord can see more fault in his church than I can; and I have equal confidence that he sees no fault at all. Because he covers her faults with his own love-that love which covers a multitude of sins; and he removes all her defilement with that precious blood which washes away all the transgressions of his people.
C.H. Spurgeon

How Great Thou Art

Oh Lord, My God, When In Awesome Wonder
Consider All The World, Thy Hands Have Made;
I See The Stars, I Hear The Rolling Thunder,
Thy Power Throughout The Universe Displayed

(chorus)
Then Sings My Soul, My Savior God To Thee,
How Great Thou Art, How Great Thou Art
Then Sings My Soul, My Savior God To Thee;
How Great Thou Art, How Great Thou Art

When Through The Woods
And Forest Glades I Wander
And Hear The birds Sing
Sweetly In The Trees
When I Look Down From
Lofty Mountain Grandeur
And Hear The Brook And
Feel The Gentle Breeze

And When I Think That God,
His Son Not Sparing,
Sent Him To Die, I Scarce Can Take It In;
That On The Cross, My Burden Gladly Bearing,
He Bled And Died To Take Away My Sin

When Christ Shall Come
With Shout of Acclamation,
And Take Me Home,
What Joy Shall Fill My Heart,
Then I Shall Bow In Humble Adoration
And There Proclaim, My God,
How Great Thou Art!