Categories
hope Poetry

A Time

There is a time

the whole creation’s been waiting for;

When all the evil

in this sore, sore world

will be laid bare and die.

And when that time does come

we’ll life a shout of joy

For then our home is just around the bend

and by His mercy He will take us there.

There’s a place

There’s a time

There’s a land where truth still reigns

There’s a God in heav’n above

Angels bow before Him.

Verse 2 and Chorus 2 of Song of Hope by dw

I promised to share the next verse with you – here it is; one more to come!

Grace and peace to you…

dw

Categories
hope Poetry

A Place

There’s a place

where I will stand before my Maker;

A place that’s free

from all the worries of this world;

a place of inner quiet.

There I fall down on my knees

and lay my burdens down

And He takes me by the hand

and lifts me to where the eagles fly.

There’s a place

There’s a time

There’s a land where mercy reigns

There’s a God in heav’n above

Angels bow before Him.

Verse 1 and Chorus 1 of Song of Hope by dw

The words of this song have been on my mind quite a bit lately and I’ve felt a prompt to share them here with you. Two more verses and choruses coming soon.

Grace and peace to you…

dw

Categories
Poetry

An ark of acacia wood

You shall make an ark of acacia wood,

covered with gold.

If I were an Israelite, just out of Egypt,

wandering who knows where,

following a fiery, cloudy pillar

and a crazed old man,

what would this command signify?

I and those with me,

no home and no possessions

beyond what we carry with us,

make such a thing,

another thing to carry,

for the fiery, thunderous Voice

that makes us tremble?

Why?

How?

You shall make an ark of acacia wood,

covered with gold.

When I was a child I was told

one day I could be in a place

with streets made of gold,

gates of pearl,

miraculous trees

watered by a living river.

God lived there,

and one day, so might I.

It still captures my imagination.

You shall make an ark of acacia wood

covered with gold.

I never think about building heaven,

actually piecing it together

with my own hands.

It’s something provided,

provisioned by God himself.

It’s beyond me

my talent

my resources

my scope.

Only God builds heaven.

You shall make an ark of acacia wood,

covered with gold.

If I were an Israelite, just out of Egypt:

The wood, right here in the wilderness;

the gold, we carried as gifts out of Egypt;

the ark, something we never imagined,

but shown to us;

the skill, right here among us.

You shall make an ark of acacia wood,

covered with gold.

You shall make it.

See, everything is provided.

You shall make it;

and when you do,

I will dwell just above it,

hovering over your creation.


Grace and peace to you…

dw