In the midst of trials, sometimes up is down
And the lines are blurred; Truth is trifled with,
The boundaries of falsehood are extended,
And to distinguish between left and right
Is to choose between a rock and a hard place.
Like incense, let the fragrance of this sacrifice of worship rise
Beyond the reach of my voice and words, even my thoughts and imaginations.
Like rain, let Your blessings fall on this parched existence I call my own
Soaking deeper than I can reach, enough to overflow, spread and stretch
Further than I can see, or hear, or broadly estimate, much less predict.
What does it mean to be called a child of God?
What price is enough, to be called by His name?
I may not completely understand the depth of the mystery;
I can definitely not afford, and am unworthy of bearing the cost;
But I am called by His name, by the working of Grace.
When everything threatens to fall apart;
When I lift up my eyes, and there seems to be nothing to see;
When I look down, and it feels like I’m standing on nothing but hot air;
When my faith is tossed, and trembling under the load of circumstances;
When I’m on the verge of running out of tears to shed,
And tear tracks have formed a speedway along my cheeks;
Oh, how quickly they fall…tell me not about how the mighty have fallen;
No, I am not a man of many sorrows, because He has called me by name.
All of creation declares the glory of God;
Without words they speak;
Even stationary they show;
Just by being, they proclaim.
Of these I am sure:
That the Lord is my shepherd;
That His Spirit keeps my heart pure;
That by His Grace, my cries are always heard.
In the presence of the Lord is fullness of joy;
Indeed, in His house we find gladness and liberty;
We gather before the throne of the Almighty;
And bow in worship, not in shame to our Liberator;
With purpose, and the aim to glorify the Creator.