Working hard now day's, doing it alone,
a mansion in heaven all brick and stone.
Building a beautiful home for all to see,
trying to get it finished for all my family.
Already have my lot, Christ gave to me,
When he died upon the cross at Calvary.
Jesus blood was shed for us on that hill,
no money involved his blood paid the bill.
It's a very high price for a lot to build on,
will last till eternity, and always be home.
Lot comes with everything wait and see,
such green grass and many shade trees.
No cutting the grass any more in the Sun,
time with Jesus and family having some fun.
Flowers in the garden, with a wonderful scent,
hard to believe, only Christ blood was spent.
All we have to do, believe He died for our sin,
that he died on the Cross, so we'll live again,
no worries now when we go to our grave,
he paid with his blood for us to be saved.
The blessing that this quilt contains
Is from a grandmother's heart.
Each stitch is placed with love and hope
That comfort fills each part.
May it cover you with warmth and love,
When evenings start to cool.
May you spread it out for picnics,
Underneath a sky of blue.
May you wrap your dolly or your cat,
Play hide and seek, cover your head.
If ever you're ill, may healing fill
The room where the Blessing Quilt's laid.
May it last forever, like Grandma's love,
Until at last you'll understand...
This quilt is full of blessings and prayers
From Grandma's heart and hands.
In this life there is nothing as grand
As having the leading of the Heavenly Father's Hand
When the Father leads us wherever we may go
We never lose our way as long as he has control.
The Heavenly Father will let us if we let Him be our guide
He will always be right by our side
When we are burdened down with a heavy load
God will lift our burdens and put us on the right road.
When we are lost in sin and need correction
The Heavenly Father will guide us in the right direction
As we go through this land
All we need is the Father's directing Hand.
Lightning strikes,
Thunder roars,
The child shivers,
Still awake in her bed...
The rain falls,
On the window sill,
Beating like a drum,
Ill feelings in her head...
Wind blows,
Whistling loudly,
Bending the tree branches,
Whispering names of the dead...
Hailstones fall,
Larger than golf balls,
Shattering on the ground,
Making sounds she dreads...
Tree branches fall,
Gardens overflow,
Saturating the ground,
Like the tears she sheds...
