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OINTMENT FOR HIS FEET Lord, I have no expensive, aromatic oil With which to anoint Your beloved feet; No ointment rare and precious Of fragrance sweet. But oh, my God! With all-adoring praise My one possession I gladly waste, So that, anointing You in love, Your delight I'll taste. I pour out myself: my hopes, dreams, Ambitions, plans and talents -- God-given, But by me badly used, By my will driven. Gladly, and with Mary's same extravangance I pour myself out, despising cost Or opinion, hoping to find In You I'm lost ... Lord Jesus! Please, accept my impulsive sacrifice, My stumbling steps and clumsy touch. Let me be the ointment at Your feet: Forgiven by Your mercy, and loving much. By: Cath Filmer-Davies Cath has gone on to be with the Lord. I shall miss her sweet spirit. She was always ready to offer me her sage wisdom and encouragement. |