The forerunner is born. The tongue once dumb
Is loosed again to speak with glory-praise;
And all around must question, “What is this
That God has caused such wonders in our days?”
Lord, in this hour, loose my silenced tongue,
My “tact” that is nine-tenths all cowardice,
That measures words to match the social cloth,
And never says a sentence out of place.
Let me admit my fears, my shames, my fails:
All the forgiven things that show your grace;
But let me also say how you have healed,
Have lifted up my head and washed my face.
Let me proclaim you are the only God,
And no created being shares your throne.
Infinite mercy? Yes! But still the Lord,
And every knee must bow to you alone.
Let me admit your kingdom’s shearing truth
The sword that cuts through to the very heart
The measure that you measure we must own,
And walk in light and bear our faithful part.
But let me speak, first, above all, supreme
Of Jesus and the death he died for me,
Died in my place so I might live in him.
Lord, take this craven tongue and set it free!