TITLE: Blood Brothers
By Helen Murray
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My blood brotherís Name is Jesus.
What a price He paid for me!
Where I go Heís my insurance.
He will always set me free
To love beyond all reasonís careful pathways.
I have drunk His cup of suffering.
Pledged to utter slavery
By choice. I am His hands and feet
That walk delirious with joy
Proclaiming reclaimed freedom to the captive,
Everything within me screaming
Justice for the crying host,
Of starving brethren in their millions,
And the sorrowing, dying lost.
Itís Jesus in me, unabating love.
I am looking at the vastness
Of the shame upon this earth,
But my eye discerns an option,
Misery translates to mirth,
For opportunity has raised her laughing head.
There is now a wind arising,
Gale-force, hounding round our heels,
Here a chance to change the future,
There a plan to sink some steels
To water in a harsh, unlovely street.
Gather round blood brothers for
We slaves must venture to this land
To plant the flag of Jesus on
The earthís dry crust and raise His hand
As water spumes, good measure, health replete.
At last a unity has grown,
Godís children one as Jesus prayed
In deathís dark hour, it would, it must,
For then His words have we obeyed.
Earth has trouble. Take heart. Jesus rose,
And forever so.
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