Have Thine Own Way...

Have Thine own way, Lord! have Thine own way!
Thou art the Potter; I am the clay.
Mold me and make me after Thy will,
While I am waiting, yielded and still.

Have Thine own way, Lord! have Thine own way!
Search me and try me, Master, today!
Whiter than snow, Lord, wash me just now,
As in Thy presence humbly I bow.

Have Thine own way, Lord! have Thine own way!
Wounded and weary, help me, I pray!
Power - all power- surely is Thine!
Touch me and heal me, Savior divine!

Have Thine own way, Lord! have Thine own way!
Hold o'er my being absolute sway!
Fill with Thy Spirit till all shall see
Christ only, always, living in me!

(Adelaide Pollard)
http://www.hymnsite.com/lyrics/umh382.sht

Adelaide Pollard was depressed and thought that God had deserted her. She
had a great burden for the country of Africa and she believed that she
should go there as a missionary, but now as she was preparing to sail, it
was evident that the funds she needed could not be raised. That evening she
read Jeremiah 18:3,4, the story of the potter. As she read she believed the
story was her own. "Perhaps", she said, "my questioning of God's will
shows a flaw in life, so God has decided to break me, as the potter broke
the defective vessel, and then to mold my life again in His own pattern."
That evening she wrote the poem, which became the hymn, "Have Thine Own Way, Lord." Adelaide Pollard finally did minister for God in Africa. She would
speak publicly until she was 72 years old.

http://schaefer-family.com/hymns.htm

Oh Lord yes!!! have your own way in my life.

Christ be all.

[In] the autumn of 1850…re­viv­al meet­ings were be­ing held in the Thir­ti­eth Street Meth­od­ist Church [, New York Ci­ty]. Some of us went down ev­ery ev­en­ing; and, on two oc­ca­sions, I sought peace at the at­lar [sic], but did not find the joy I craved, un­til one ev­en­ing, No­vem­ber 20, 1850, it seemed to me that the light must in­deed come then or ne­ver; and so I arose and went to the al­tar alone. A­fter a prayer was of­fered, they be­gan to sing the grand old con­se­cra­tion hymn, “Alas, and did my Sav­iour bleed, And did my Sov­er­eign die?” And when they reached the third line of the fourth [sic] stan­za, “Here Lord, I give my­self away,” my very soul was flood­ed with a ce­les­ti­al light. I sprang to my feet, shout­ing “hal­le­lu­jah,” and then for the first time I real­ized that I had been try­ing to hold the world in one hand and the Lord in the other.

Crosby, p. 24

"My very soul was flooded with celestial light."
Oh Lord may countless souls be flooded by thine own light as they search for thee and ponder the blood that was shed for them. So much truth in the old Hymns...........Frank

Thank you for this Hquest!

Thank you.