The men sang the first verse. It gave me chills to hear all of those manly voices singing about the coming of the Lord. They sang loud. They sang with confidence.
His Truth is Marching On
The pretty ladies sang the verse about the lilies, then we all sang the final verse. I sang the words, then stopped and read the third line over again.
A swift soul and jubilant feet? Not a jubilant soul and swift feet?
My soul - the part of me that is in constant battle with the spirit. The part that wants to satisfy fleshly desires; the part of me that tends to be prideful, selfish.
Oh, to have a swift soul - a swift soul that runs to right, to good . . . to God. A soul that is quick to make the right choice, to bury selfish wants and desires, to crave spiritual over world.
So when the time comes for Him to sift my heart before His judgement seat, and if I have been faithful to have a swift soul, I'm pretty sure He will see some very happy feet.
It just makes sense.