Your Gentle Breeze

Come to me a word, O Lord,
a word of faith and love and power,
to lift me up and place me high
upon a safe and solid place.

You see my zeal for You, O Lord,
as God who leads the hosts of heavens —
your hunted servant nearly dead,
among a people who spurn your Name.

They turned their backs upon the covenant,
refused to obey, and served false gods;
Their worship’s vain, by man’s traditions,
they seek to silence and maim your servants.

No gale or fire or quaking earth
hold out to me your gentle presence,
but lightest breeze which brings relief —
From you I hide my shame and fear.

Ah, show me seven thousand strong
in faithfulness, O Lord — a remnant
with knees unbowed to Baal and Mammon,
who’ve never kissed Emotion’s idol.

Give me a work to do, my Lord,
a future to build, with friends of hope,
enthusiastic men and women
who speak the powerful News to all.

And let me be to them a comfort,
a gentle source of courage and strength;
You know, O Lord, how much I crave it —
How much then must they need it as well!

Say amen. Ask for prayers. Give thanks.