O Lord, what desire to be found right,
even in the end, after our days!
When we are gone, we want others to know,
that we were righteous, just as Job
wanted his words written down,
chiseled in stone forever.
There must be—has to be—someone
to stand up finally, who’ll rise to speak
on our behalf and show that we,
after all, had integrity.
When all is gone and swept away—
our skin, our skill, our flesh and will—
we want no human approbation,
but only yours, divine, One
who always lives to intercede,
who brought to light eternal life
through his cross.
Though all be against us, we cannot bear
to be estranged from you—here lies
our deepest fear and agony.
Let Christ fill your holy sight
on judgment day, as we hide ourselves
behind him, claiming his righteousness,
our names inscribed in purest blood—
no cause in stone, but in our hearts
his washing and your Spirit of truth.
With hope, our hearts shall never faint;
with Christ, we do not fear your judgment.