Count your blessings one by one!

Details about this song writer: The hymn called :“Count your blessings one by on”, was written by Johnson Oatman, Jr. in 1897. He was born in 1856 and died in1922. His father, Johnson Oatman, Sr., a prominent businessman in the small town of Lumbertown, New Jersey, was a well-known singer in Christian circles.

Johnson Jr. worked in his father’s business. In fact, it seemed he lived in his father’s shadow all his life… even carrying his father’s name. Young Johnson could not sing as well as his father.

He eventually became an ordained Methodist minister and often preached in the small churches in the area. He also sang in those small churches, but he never could never sing like his father sang. Yet he grew up wanting to make some musical contributions of his own. 

When Johnson Jr. was 36-years-old, he counted his blessings… and discovered a talent he never realized he had. He could write songs! For the next 3 decades he wrote 4 or 5 new gospel songs each week! So, every year some 200 songs flowed from his pen. He eventually had written 5,000 songs and was happy that in his musical compositions he had found a way to “preach the Gospel.” 

He didn’t want money for his hymns, but his publisher, Edwin Excell insisted… so Johnson Jr. agreed to accept $1 per song.

Johnson Oatman was a humble man but that never stopped him for knowing how many blessings the Lord sent his way. 

Read the words of this song and then take the time to count your blessings one by one.

Be grateful and always remember what the Lord has done for you.

All of you have talents and qualities, just let the Lord develop them. 
Let Him work in you and through you.  Do not place any limits on what the Lord can do for you and through you.  
Then, do not be surprised at 
what the Lord will do.

Count your blessings… name them one by one.

When upon life’s billows you are tempest-tossed,
when you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
count your many blessings, name them one by one,
and it will surprise you what the Lord has done.

Refrain:
Count your blessings, name them one by one,

count your blessings, see what God has done!
Count your blessings, name them one by one,
Count your many blessings, see what God has done.
And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.

Are you ever burdened with a load of care?
Does the cross seem heavy you are called to bear?
Count your many blessings, every doubt will fly,
and you will keep singing as the days go by.  (Refrain)

When you look at others with their lands and gold,
think that Christ has promised you His wealth untold;
count your many blessings—money cannot buy,
your reward in Heaven, nor your home on high.  (Refrain)

So, amid the conflict whether great or small,

do not be discouraged, God is over all;
count your many blessings, angels will attend,

help and comfort give you to your journey’s end.  (Refrain)

Count your blessings name them one by one

Count your blessings see what God has done

Count your blessings name them one by one

Count your many blessings see what God has done.

Repeat:

Count your blessings name them one by one

Count your blessings see what God has done

Count your blessings name them one by one

Count your many blessings see what God has done!

You can listen to this song on YouTube. It may not be the type of music that we sing today, but if you read the words carefully, it is really a beautiful worship song.

Take care everyone!

Denise

Picture of Johnson Oatman Jr.

Take a look at Grandpa's hands!

Take a look at grandpa’s hands

Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat,

 I wondered if he was OK.

Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him

at the same time, I asked him if he was OK.

He raised his head and looked at me and smiled.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for asking," he said in a clear strong voice.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, Grandpa, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained to him. 

"Have you ever looked at your hands," he asked. 
"I mean really looked at your hands?"

 

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making.

Grandpa smiled and related this story:

"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled, and weak have been the tools I have used all my life

to reach out and grab and embrace life.

They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. 

As a child my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. 

They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. 

They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. 

They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. 

Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I 
was married and loved someone special. 

They trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse and walked my daughter down the aisle. 

 

They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed

and cleansed the rest of my body. 

They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. 

And to this day, when not much of anything else of me works 
real well, these hands hold me up, lay me down,

and again continue to fold in prayer. 

These hands are the mark of where I've been and the 
ruggedness of my life. 

But more importantly it will be these hands that God will 
reach out and take when he leads me home. 

And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there 
I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ." 

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God 
reached out and took my grandpa's hands and led him home.

When my hands are hurt or sore I think of Grandpa.

 

I know he has been 
stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God.

 

And one day, with my hands, I, too, want to touch the face of God

 and feel His hands upon my face.

author unknown