O little man, what know you of Our patience? Talk to Us about time As if you know I Am the One who made it Talk to Us about pain As if you know I Am the One who laid it All down for you at the crown of the place Stripped of its flesh, the hill without a face To give you a foundation of mercy To carve into your hands Valleys for Our grace We can see that you are hurting Suffocating in your tightly woven mask It’s enough to keep you breathing But not near enough to last If you keep asking all these questions One of you will die of asphyxiation You lead a double life and only do half the living
We said to be like Christ You cannot be like the Trinity Of a single mind, yet Thrice You've not uncovered that mystery Only We can be three in one Without anything spilling Where We do not absolutely intend it to be
So have you started reaching? For the ties behind your head? Or do your fingers fumble? Scratching your eyes out instead? Have you learned nothing? O man, listen to what We said Trade your trying for trusting And let Us do the rest
And just so you know We intend to spill all over creation But for some reason You are not making the connection that includes you Which of Our actions has ever led you to believe Our intentions are to exclude? What makes you think that We exude anything other than unmerited favor toward the entirety of your endeavors? Historically, when have We ever proved to be anything less than your forever victorious Savior? Was it the beginning? When We made man in our likeness? Or on the ark of Noah? When We saved you from the torrents? Perhaps it was when We promised the land of milk and honey? Or delivered you from your enemies And closed on them, the sea? And you ask for your chains back! You have loved a new slavery! No matter how much you nag We will not place you on that tree You cannot sacrifice your words and acts You cannot convince Us of your piety! You can be still, relax Let Us sing to you Our poetry We could speak in the way you ask But what would you hear more audibly?
Have you started reaching? For the ties behind your head? Or do your fingers fumble? Scratching your eyes out instead? Have you learned nothing? O man, listen to what We said Trade your trying for trusting And let Us do the rest
I will condescend my finger tip To graciously fold your hip You have fought for long enough I see your seam starting to rip Let Me cut the strings for you strung Stretching from the corners of your lips And separate the plastic grafted To your cheeks, ears, nose, and chin It will hurt at first, but trust Me Your flesh must be stripped Be ready with the oil And keep your lamp wick well trimmed Wait for me eagerly I will send the second skin You knot this thing thoroughly But it is not a match for the One who will undo All the damage that you did He will take the hewn with open wounds And sew your folds back into Him Your tattered attempts to mend the holes Will soon hold inside the hem of His robe Made white by His life, red in His death Whole at moment I chose to resurrect Then yours the second you accept That I want nothing less than the best For all My elect I have the authority to command And the power to affect The strength to defend The compassion to protect You work futility to its end And forsake the day of rest But when you grow tired again I will be there to help you unforget
(It’s Your hands that formed me from the clay!) It's My hands that formed you out of clay (Those same hands are filled with love and grace!) It's My hands that lavish you with love and grace (It’s Your hands held by nails up on that tree!) My hands were held by nails to the tree (Those same hands are reaching toward me!) It's My hands that will bring you back to MeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
