Thursday, September 15, 2011
When We Look Up
With downcast eye we see life’s grief
Its wretchedness and dirt
We see throngs blind with unbelief
Imprisoned by their hurt
We see dark cradles of despair
The hopelessness of sin
It robs our trembling lips of prayer
Lord, where can we begin?
In loathsome corridors of filth
The groveling captive lie
Doom lurks above in silent stealth
Until at last they die
Cold sorrow hovers like a shroud
The darkness closes in
We lift our voices, cry aloud
Lord, where can we begin…?
…and as we lift our distraught eyes
Above the hopelessness
Morning breaks across the skies
In shades of faithfulness
He lights the dawn to rise upon
The rich man and the poor
As He cries out to everyone
‘Behold, I am the Door’
He makes the blinded eye to see
Beyond the grief and hurt
And draws our gaze to bloom and tree
Sprouting from the dirt
As we cry, where do we begin?
And lift our eyes; undone
He lets the glorious Light shine in
As we behold the Son
Now no one can look at the sun,
bright as it is in the skies
after the wind has swept them clean.
22 Out of the north he comes in golden splendor;
God comes in awesome majesty.
23 The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power;
in his justice and great righteousness, he does not oppress.
24 Therefore, people revere him,
for does he not have regard for all the wise in heart? Job 37:21-24