Our Selfish Desires Begin to Wane, as Clearer His Will Becomes

There is a fountain filled with blood

Drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;

And sinners plunged beneath that flood

Lose all their guilty stains.

Lose all their guilty stains,

Lose all their guilty stains;

And sinners plunged beneath that flood

Lose all their guilty stains.

I sit at the piano. 

It's been so long. 

My fingers feel funny on the keys.

The framed saying from a friend, now residing with the King of Kings,
rests stately on the top of the piano.

I think of her. 

The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
And there have I, though vile as he,
Washed all my sins away.
Washed all my sins away,
Washed all my sins away;
And there have I, though vile as he,
Washed all my sins away.

As I play I can hear the steady beat of the drum. 

Soft. 

Methodical. 

Interpretive. 

His way. 

My drummer.

Now too , residing with the King of Kings. 

I revel in the washing of my sins. 

Away. 

I am saved. 

I am clean. 

Because of Him. 

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power
Till all the ransomed church of God

Be saved, to sin no more.
Be saved, to sin no more,
Be saved, to sin no more;
Till all the ransomed church of God
Be saved, to sin no more.

I breathe in the words. 

This Ancient Hymn. 

Powerful. 

Convicting. 

Comforting. 

My fingers fly. 

Free. 

I long to play as my Grandmother and Uncle. 

Oh how the keys danced under their command. 

The melodies brought forth; tantalizing. 

Mesmerizing. 

A gift. 

Powerful. 

I play on. 

Lost in these thoughts. 

I step into gratitude. 

Always. 

A choice. 

A step. 

Moving. 

E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.
And shall be till I die,
And shall be till I die;
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.

We are loved. 

Grace is ours. 

Eternal life; our goal. 

Praise on our lips. . . until we are called home. 

Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
I’ll sing Thy power to save,
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave.
Lies silent in the grave,
Lies silent in the grave;

When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave.

Strength gained from time in His presence. 

The journey made clear. 

Our selfish desires begin to wane. 

As clearer his will becomes. 

Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared,
Unworthy though I be,
For me a blood bought free reward,
A golden harp for me!
A golden harp for me,
A golden harp for me;
For me a blood bought free reward,
A golden harp for me!

The music soothes this weary soul.

The words pour over my being.

There is a place prepared for me. 

For you. 

When our work is through 

Until then. 

We stand in strength. 

Not as this world gives. 

Tis strung and tuned for endless years,
And formed by power divine,
To sound in God the Father’s ears
No other name but Thine;
No other name but Thine,
No other name but Thine;
To sound in God the Father’s ears
No other name but Thine.

There is a Fountain

Selah