When I’m in the grip of fear, grief, or pain—I raise my hands to pray and sing. First my flesh bows, I force out words, as I fret from the weight on my heart.
I shift my load to His open, pierced palms, where my thoughts are safe from harm. On the edge of that pit, I stand firm in His name, as though blind from a shroud of dark clouds. I hear His voice call, and the black clouds flee when I kneel before my great King.
Now, armed with His creed and the shield of His love, I jump to my feet and cry out, for my trust in His hands holds strong, as His truth shines bright in my soul.
The Lord Jesus Christ is who I claim, His blood shed to save me from sins—the red drops wash my eyes, so now I can see His blood frees my soul. His words rush through my mind and flow from my lips—words of hope, praise, and joy. He lifts my face to look at His grace and find mercy in my time of need.
When I bow down and praise Him through song, it breaks the links of sin’s chains, and I soar high with hope in the Light, changed in His sight, and He gives me a new name.
By E.V. Sparrow, 2021