Scripture Verse

This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to His will, he hears us. 1 John 5:14

Introduction

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Asa B. Everett (1828–1875)

Words: Charles Wes­ley, Hymns and Sac­red Po­ems 1742.

Music: Rich­mond (Ev­er­ett) Asa B. Ev­er­ett (1828–1875) (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tunes:

If you know where to get a bet­ter pho­to of Ev­er­ett,

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Charles Wesley (1707–1788)

Anecdote

On Oc­to­ber 9, 1852, Tho­mas Ro­bin­son Al­lan, who af­ter­wards found­ed the Al­lan Library, found his way to the Wes­ley­an Chapel in Wind­sor Street, Brigh­ton, where the Rev. Pe­ter Coo­per preached from the pray­er of Ja­bez (I Chron. iv. 10), and read the first verse of this hymn. ‘Was I lead to this place to-night to re­ceive an an­swer to a pe­ti­tion which had long been a matter of pray­er, and which I par­ti­cu­lar­ly and ear­nest­ly plead­ed this morn­ing?

I be­lieve it was so; though it was ac­com­pan­ied by a kind, up­braid­ing look from my ador­a­ble Mas­ter, when the preach­er said, Pe­rhaps you en­gaged in the bu­si­ness with­out con­sult­ing God at all.

Though the mat­ter was not in my thoughts on en­ter­ing the place, yet it came strong­ly in­to my mind at the con­clu­sion of the ser­vice, that the Lord had gra­cious­ly con­des­cend­ed to give me a to­ken that He had heard my pray­er. And whe­ther the an­swer takes ef­fect in this way or that, I leave to His wis­dom and His love.’

Telford, p. 304

Lyrics

Jesus, my strength, my hope,
On Thee I cast my care,
With hum­ble con­fi­dence look up,
And know Thou hear’st my pray­er.
Give me on Thee to wait
Till I can all things do;
On Thee, al­migh­ty to cre­ate,
Almighty to re­new.

I want a sober mind,
A self-re­noun­cing will,
That tram­ples down and casts be­hind
The baits of pleas­ing ill;
A soul in­ured to pain,
To hard­ship, grief, and loss,
Bold to take up, firm to sus­tain
The con­se­crat­ed cross.

I want a god­ly fear,
A quick dis­cern­ing eye
That looks to Thee when sin is near
And sees the tempt­er fly;
A spi­rit still pre­pared
And armed with jea­lous care,
Forever stand­ing on its guard
And watch­ing un­to pray­er.

I want a heart to pray,
To pray and ne­ver cease,
Never to mur­mur at Thy stay,
Or wish my suf­fer­ings less.
This bless­ing, above all,
Always to pray, I want,
Out of the deep on Thee to call,
And ne­ver, ne­ver faint.

I want a true regard,
A sin­gle, stea­dy aim,
Unmoved by threat’ning or re­ward
To Thee and Thy great name.
A jea­lous, just con­cern
For Thine im­mor­tal praise;
A pure de­sire that all may learn
And glo­ri­fy Thy grace.

I rest up­on Thy Word;
The pro­mise is for me;
My com­fort and sal­va­tion, Lord,
Shall sure­ly come from Thee.
But let me still abide,
Nor from my hope re­move,
Till Thou my pa­tient spi­rit guide
Into Thy per­fect love.

I want with all my heart
Thy plea­sure to ful­fill,
To know my­self, and what Thou art,
And what Thy per­fect will.
I want I know not what,
I want my wants to see,
I want—alas! what want I not,
When Thou art not in me?