Counting Blessings
It’s very easy to complain
of thunderclouds and too much rain,
of losing much with little gain.
It brings Him pain, it brings Him pain.
He is the Father up above
that we are so unworthy of,
as gentle as a morning dove.
Yes, He is love, Yes, He is love.
When we prepare to go to sleep,
instead of counting all those sheep,
let’s count the blessing He does heap.
He isn’t cheap, He isn’t cheap.
Let’s thank Him for the food we eat
and for our eyes, ears, hands and feet,
and for the times we can retreat.
He is so sweet, He is so sweet.
And greater than the gifts He gives,
Christ once was dead but now He lives.
He lets us know Him as He is.
And He forgives, and He forgives.
Some day this life on earth will cease.
We’ll close our eyes in sweet release.
So let our praise only Increase.
He is our peace, He is our peace.
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