TORRENTS

TORRENTS


The Eternal One who made the worlds,
It is his hand that commands the storm.
Soon the nations will fall before his glory:
Man will know he is a worm.

Now the clouds of heaven burst and fall, cascading
As the flaming sword yet glints and turns--
Time beats hard, unrelenting.
Men's hearts falter as they burn.

So who was self-righteous, standing
Now shuddering, as the grass?
Righteousness rushes high and low;
Truth cleanses to the last.

O merciful Saviour, Most Holy King
Regard these heavy, lowly tears
Lead us in a simple path
For the darkness grows deep, and near.

For we remember our Master's sorrow.
For we know he walked this same narrow path.
But can we bear his reproach, unwavering...?
Can we overcome all, at last...?

But faithful and true is the King who bled
And to him our souls now belong!
His Spirit in us, o'erflowing
In the truth of Jesus Christ the weak are strong.

O Lord of glory who speaketh to us in thunders,
As the dayspring from on high o'er spills--
So may the hearts that tremble at thy word
In those torrents be ever washed, and filled.

(~sister Abby Elizabeth)