Precious Lord, Take My Hand

I learned something new in regard to Black History Month. One of my favorite hymns was penned by one Mr. Thomas A. Dorsey, who just happens to be considered one of the pioneers of gospel music. He wrote something like 400 gospel tunes over his lifetime.

This one was inspired by the death of his wife and infant son during childbirth. It was out of some of the deepest pain and grief imaginable that some of the most beautiful lyrics ever penned came to be.

That’s how it is sometimes. God speaks a precious word to those going through the valley of the shadow of death. Many of those who have suffered loss have used it to minister to others in their time of grief, knowing full well that God works all things, including the worst things, together for good.

I have no concept of what it’s like to lose a spouse or a child, much less both. I can’t begin to imagine the agony of sorrow. I do know that the basis of the hope I have comes from God sacrificing His only Son for me that I might have life.

God knows what sorrow is like. God is with us in the middle of weeping. The same Shepherd who has gone before us into that valley of death will go with us through it. That’s what I know for sure.

“Precious Lord, take my hand.
Lead me on, let me stand.
I am tired, I am weak, and 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, lead me 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 the day is past and gone,
At the river I stand.
Guide my feet, hold my hand,
Take my hand, precious Lord,
Lead me home.”

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