Olives that have known no pressure
No oil can bestow
If the grapes escapes the winepress
Cheering wine can never flow
Spikinard only through the crushing
Fragrance shall diffuse
Shall I then Lord shrink from suffering
Which Thy love for me would choose
Chorus
Each blow I suffer
Is true gain to me
In the place of what Thou takest
Thou dost give Thyself to me
~Watchman Nee
1 comment:
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