I Trust In Jesus

Before this body turns to dust
Before this world I leave
Upon The Lord I’ve placed my trust
Upon The Rock I’ll cleave

I’ve placed my trust in Jesus Christ
God’s Son of flesh and bone
The innocent Lamb sacrificed
I trust His word alone

I trust He chose for man to die
Then rose again to reign
That as God’s Seed He’d multiply
His flock when born-again

I trust His blood can cleanse the soul
I trust His blood can save
His very name can make us whole
And save us from the grave

I trust in Jesus’ loving care
I trust He bore my shame
I trust the love He came to share
Remains today the same

I trust the pardon Jesus bought
Can save this wretch from hell
I trust Salvation’s true report
My Saviour had to tell

Although the devil’s out to harm
Though Satan, he’s out to kill
I trust my Lord’s almighty arm
I trust His righteous will

I trust my life to Christ The Lord
I trust in Heaven’s Door
I trust in God’s Almighty Sword
I’ll trust Him evermore…

Michael P. Johnson


Testimony of Michael P. Johnson:
All praise and glory to The Living Lord; God and Jesus Christ my soon coming King.
Born a sinner saved by grace. I first truly began going to church at the tender age of 46 years 10 months. After six wonderful life changing months. After thoroughly reading the Bible and believing it from front to back true! I was born-again through the precious blood of my personal Saviour Jesus Christ. After accepting that He is who He & God’s Word (Bible) says He is. I further can testify that The Lord God Jesus Christ LIVES.

For even as an insignificant wretch that I was, six times I personally audibly heard the voice of The Living God. Once The Father, four times Jesus; the Holy Spirit once. Always distinct audible. Though each time was different some lengthy, others short. Countless other times in diverse ways I have recognised God speaking to me. So now I can never doubt that The Godhead well & truly lives! ! !

The Weaver

I had this poem written on my birthday card sometime in 1992. The author was 'unknown'; yet I searched in the net for some authorship to this poem; I am not sure I found some, because the second part of this poem is attributed to B.M. Franklin. But the first part was different in the original version. But here it is, just as I received it.

Behind our lives the Weaver stands
And works His wondrous will;
We leave it in His all-wise hands
And trust His perfect skill.
Should mystery enshroud His plan
And our short sight be dim;
We will not try the whole to scan -
But leave each thread to Him.

Not until the loom is silent
And the shuttle ceases to fly
Will God unroll the batten
And explain the reason why
The dark threads were as needful,
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As threads of gold and silver;
For the pattern He has planned.

- Unknown