Saturday, August 8, 2009


Through prophecy we seek the Lord
We ask to hear his holy Word
To bind us all in one accord
And pierce us with his two-edged sword.

But do we truly want his will?
Bad habits here remaining still.
The word of God a bitter pill
So we remain amidst our swill.

Oh lift us Lord that we might be
A fitting instrument for thee.
And with your grace that we might see
The kind of love we have from thee.

Your Spirit flows just like a flood,
Your life poured out in precious blood.
But here we sit stuck in the mud.
We cannot shake this dreadful crud.

The flesh has bound our will to live,
Sometimes too stubborn to forgive.
Our lives be sifted by his sieve,
Until we learn to love to give.

Heal us Lord and make us hear
When you, to us are drawing near.
Your words are treasure to the ear,
Dispelling any glimpse of fear.

Give us the wisdom and the grace
To take our cross and keep the pace.
To follow you with steadfast face
Right to that crucifixion place.

So when our time on earth is done
You see the kind of race we’ve run
Just how we imitate your son
And say “well done my faithful one.”

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