It’s no chance – these dire straits!
In love, He does what He does, always
What holy pursuit, with ne’er a pause
He perfects the saint while seeking the lost.
Refine Your Body, purge the dross
Revive our love, whatever the cost
Stir our hearts, let coldness flee
From worldly ties, Lord, set us free.
That wealth nor fame may cloud our eyes
Nor love of ease, our hearts entice;
May cares of life not snuff out zeal
For sinners lost, your mind reveal.
Open our eyes that we may see
Your world from heaven’s perspective
The teeming throngs bereft of hope
Ever seeking just for ways to cope.
From our stupor, Lord, help us rise
Thrust us forth and set us ablaze
That the Gospel light dispel the dark
Till end to end, it has made its mark.
arjohn
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