Monday's Mourning Ministry - Footprints in the Sand ~Leona Lewis

Monday's Mourning Ministry

Footprints in the Sand

~Leona Lewis

(The music actually runs until 4:03 minutes.)

Footprints In The Sand

~Leona Lewis

You walked with me, footprints in the sand,

And help me understand where I'm going...

You walked with me when I was all alone,

With so much unknown along the way,

Then I heard You say,

I promise you I'm always there

When your heart is filled with sorrow and despair,

I'll carry you when you need a friend

You'll find my footprints in the sand.

I see my life flash across the sky

So many times have I been so afraid

And just when I, I thought I'd lost my way

You gave me strength to carry on...

That's when I heard you say

I promise you I'm always there

When your heart is filled with sorrow and despair

And I'll carry you when you need a friend,

You'll find my footprints in the sand.

When I'm weary,

Well I know You'll be there

And I can feel You when You say,

I promise you (you)

I'm always there

When your heart is filled (when your heart)

with sadness and despair (and despair)

Oh, I'll carry you when you need a friend (need a friend)

You'll find my footprints in the sand (I promise you)

Ohh, (I'm always there)

When your heart is full of

Sadness and despair (and despair)

I'll carry you (I'll carry you)

When you need a friend,

You'll find my footprints in the sand.

Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh...

Uhm mmhh ummh uhm mmhh.

pictures thanks to FotoSearch.com

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0LvNApYP84&feature=related

Monday's Mourning Ministry - Precious Lord, Take My Hand

Monday's Mourning Ministry

Precious Lord, Take My Hand

A few months ago, Tommy came upstairs in tears after watching Ronnie Milsap on a Bill Gaither Homecoming presentation on television. He had been very moved by Ronnie's singing of "Precious Lord, Take My Hand" and by his relating the testimony of Tommy A. Dorsey who wrote the words and the music to "Precious Lord." We want to share it with you along with his testimony today.

Thomas A. Dorsey (1899-1993) The Father of the Chicago Gospel Movement Thomas Andrew Dorsey is an important figure in black gospel music. He was born Villa Rica, Georgia, 38 miles from Atlanta, in 1899. He grew up listening to the great blues musicians who sang and played there, learning to play the piano.

Back in 1932 I was 32 years old and a fairly new husband. My wife, Nettie and I were living in a little apartment on Chicago's Southside. One hot August afternoon I had to go to St. Louis, where I was to be the featured soloist at a large revival meeting.

I didn't want to go. Nettie was in the last month of pregnancy with our first child.

But a lot of people were expecting me in St. Louis. I kissed Nettie good-bye, clattered downstairs to our Model A and, in a fresh Lake Michigan breeze, chugged out of Chicago on Route 66.

However, outside the city, I discovered that in my anxiety at leaving, had forgotten my music case. I wheeled around and headed back. I found Nettie sleeping peacefully.

I hesitated by her bed; something was strongly telling me to stay. But eager to get on my way, and not wanting to disturb Nettie, I shrugged off the feeling and quietly slipped out of the room with my music.

The next night, in the steaming St. Louis heat, the crowd called on me to sing again and again. When I finally sat down, a messenger boy ran up with a Western Union telegram. I ripped open the envelope. Pasted on the yellow sheet were the words: YOUR WIFE JUST DIED. People were happily singing and clapping around me, but I could hardly keep from crying out. I rushed to a phone and called home. All I could hear on the other end was "Nettie is dead. Nettie is dead."

When I got back, I learned that Nettie had given birth to a boy. I swung between grief and joy. Yet that night, the baby died. I buried Nettie and our little boy together, in the same casket. Then I fell apart. For days I closeted myself. I felt that God had done me an injustice. I didn't want to serve Him any more or write gospel songs. I just wanted to go back to that jazz world I once knew so well.

But then, as I hunched alone in that dark apartment those first sad days, I thought back to the afternoon I went to St. Louis. Something kept telling me to stay with Nettie. Was that something God? Oh, if I had paid more attention to Him that day, I would have stayed and been with Nettie when she died. From that moment on I vowed to listen more closely to Him.

But still I was lost in grief.

Everyone was kind to me, especially a friend, Professor Fry, who seemed to know what I needed. On the following Saturday evening he took me up to Malone's Poro College, a neighborhood music school. It was quiet, the late evening sun crept through the curtained windows. I sat down at the piano, and my hands began to browse over the keys.

Something happened to me then I felt at peace. I feel as though I could reach out and touch God. I found myself playing a melody, one I'd never heard or played before, and the words into my head--they just seemed to fall into place:

Precious Lord, take my hand,

lead me on, let me stand!

I am tired, I am weak,

I am worn, Through the storm,

through the night lead me on to the light,

Take my hand, precious Lord, Lead me home.

The Lord gave me these words and melody, He also healed my spirit. I learned that when we are in our deepest grief, when we feel farthest from God, this is when He is closest, and when we are most open to His restoring power. And so I go on living for God willingly and joyfully, until that day comes when He will take me and gently lead me home.

~Tommy A. Dorsey

Tommy Dorsey was inspired to write "Precious Lord" in 1932. The song has since been translated into 32 languages and was the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.'s favorite, the one Mahalia Jackson sang at his funeral. It was also sung by Leontyne Price at President Lyndon B. Johnson's funeral.

Precious Lord, Take My Hand

Ronnie Milsap

Precious Lord, take my hand

Lead me on, let me stand

I am tired, I am weak, I am worn

Through the storm, through the night,

Lead me on to the light.

Take my hand Precious Lord,

Lead me Home.

When my way grows drear,

Precious Lord linger near.

When my life is almost gone,

Hear my cry, hear my call,

Hold my hand lest I fall.

Take my hand Precious Lord,

Lead me Home!

When the darkness appears

And the night draws near

And my days are past and gone,

At the River I'll stand

Guide my feet, hold my hand.

Take my hand Precious Lord,

Lead me Home!

Precious Lord, take my hand

Lead me on, let me stand

I am tired, I am weak, I am worn

Through the storm, through the night,

Lead me on to the light.

Take my hand Precious Lord,

Lead me Home!

Take my hand Precious Lord,

Lead me Home!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iA8SgS8Xk4k

An original version of Tommy Dorsey's testimony can be found directly on YouTube at

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlmCflPD2s8