Do not let me be put to shame
Lord, I have been stretched against Your skies,
My folds unfolded
To reveal what I would hunker down and hide.
The arc-lights of Your searching truth
Burn sharp through my pretence.
Why should there be victory here?
But You will re-fashion me
Till my clouds become as rainbows;
As You shine Your love and rain down mercy.
You will put behind me yesterday’s dust-storms,
And the pointless bending of my breath
Into so ill a wind.
Let me soft to Your shaping,
Humble as the soil wherein You plant Your garden,
As You dig me over so, so many times ..
When will Your truth take root?
You lift me, ah! You lift me
From the place where I am caught between the rocks.
The chains of death become filaments,
Snapped by the breath of Your Spirit.
You lift me into Christ.
Soon, soon comes the day of the trumpet
And the reckoning of the ages,
When, weighed in Your balance,
I am no more lead;
But float, light into light.
You have raised me up forever.