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O that You rend Heaven,
Open up and come down;
That we might be given,
Our salvation crown.
That the mountains might quake,
As the fire kindles;
Water boils to make,
Burns evil that swindles.
When You did awesome things,
That we did not look for;
Mountains quaked what it brings,
Flowing lava to the shore.
No one had from the start,
Either heard or perceived;
Though You see our heart,
No one saw that believed.
No ear has ever heard,
No eye has ever seen;
Except the written Word,
Through the ages has been.
You who work righteousness,
And remember Your ways;
You will save and will bless,
Those who always obeys.
But each one is impure,
And wearing filthy rags;
As we look for a cure,
For our heart that brags.
We fade like a leaf,
Transgression like the wind;
Because of disbelief,
Not being disciplined.
There is no one who calls,
And aroused by Your name;
Failure when someone falls,
We hide and not proclaim.
But You are the potter,
While we are Your clay;
Pour on us some water,
And mold us to obey.
Copyright © 2021 Richard Newton Sherrer
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Celebrating God
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