Trusting In The Living Hand (Psalm 40)

(ahhhh) (mmmmm) Silent, heavy night,

Waiting on the Quiet Throne,

He bends down to hear.

Drawn from sinking mud,

Raised above the heavy clay,

Feet upon the stone.

Fresh song on the tongue,

Praise rings out into the dark,

Many learn to trust.

Blessed is the soul

Trusting in the Living Hand,

Turning from the false.

Wonders like the stars,

Far too many to be told,

None can match Your worth.

Not the burnt embrace,

Not the blood upon the stone—

You have pierced my ear.

Here I stand and come,

Written in the rolling scroll,

Waiting Your command.

Joy to do Your will,

Holding close Your Sacred Law,

Deep within my heart.

Truth before the crowd,

Lips unsealed and lifted high,

Speaking of Your Grace. (mmmmm) (ahhhh)