by Gary Jacobson The hand of God comes today In a solemn, quieted way. It comes not with fire as a bush burning, Nor thunder clapping His Holy Word Trumpets blaring From lands far and away over the rainbow, On mortals His divine will to bestow. His eternal secrets He will In His good time make known, Spotted sins from mortals atone. God’s sweetest message In towering faith can mountains budge, From His loving arms art symbols, Voiced by heavenly choirs of angels Plucking heartstrings to the weary soul inspire With gentle touch of soulful lyre. God will not cajole Beg nor plead, For to entice wayward souls in need To plant words bearing His Divine seed To with heavenly perfection adorn His magnificent wonders to perform. His voice is as of a whisper That the morally deaf cannot hear, Refusing even His good tidings to bear, Abiding only softened, fertile hearts, His great message of redemption imparts. Abiding sweetly crystal clear, That no mortal man should fear From a beloved son who died on Calvary, Giving His life that we might be... Oh ye that search for the Father of thine soul, May thine beleaguered spirit by the Master Be made whole. Searching for His goodness Both high and low From lofty mountaintops To verdant valleys below. Reach ye for the hand of the Almighty God To deliver from pathways unrighteous On this hallowed sod The straight and narrow path back to God. Back to His holy of holies presence Back to His blissfully divine essence. Make His sacrifice not be in vain. Strive ye Celestial goals to attain. Always with God walk upright To the very end, fight the good fight! |