Held

I am held in the hollow of his hands, by the rivers that make me glad. He keeps me in his alcove of affection, Shielding me from harm and hell’s machination. I am kept by the power of His Love, His is a variant that fits my soul like a glove, When the storms of life venture near, I am assured of peace for He is here. I am held up above principalities and powers, My spirit fears neither death nor the witching hour, For there is a constant witness in the furnace, I have a Father who ever lives to give me rest. I am fearless in the den of raging beasts, Calm in the eye of fires stoked by pride and persecutions. For within me is domiciled one who is greater, I am His beloved and He is my Lord and Lover. I am held in the hollow of his hands, Adorned with grace on my head like

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No weapons

There are no obstacles To the one who is God’s tabernacle For He dwells within her, Therefore she will not be moved. She is as Zion, mountain of the Lord. She is incorruptible, born of the seed of the Word. There are no limits, To the one who is of one Spirit, Who is fashioned from the very Rock of ages, Whose voice silences the boasting of the water that rages. She rides triumphant over death and hell, She sets the captive free and locks darkness in its own cell. There are no barricades, To hold the one who broke death’s gates, And to his Ecclesia he has committed the keys, For to rule and reign after his pleasure and will. She is impenetrable and impregnable, The hounds of hell cannot prevail against her. There are no weapons That can prosper, no matter the form or fashion, For she is garrisoned on every side by the angelic, At her command,

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