With tired hands
Worn he had written the fire of
Judgment yet the scroll
Burned and his spirit sank with
Weariness
He would groan
Low for the sorrow laid on
Sorrow no more rest
Came through the labor of his aching heart
You heard his
Sighs in the middle of the ruin
You broke the
Dream of the greatness he had sought
He found
Life when Your promise spoke
Through the shaking mercy kept
Safe what the flames could
Not consume
As the world
Fell You were writing a more
Deeper kindness not of fame
Won but a breath preserved through
Judgment
Then Your word
Came seek no throne for your own
Name now I will guard
You wherever your road shall lead
You calmed his
Soul when ambition had collapsed
You gave him
Peace not in ease but in Your hand
He stood
Kept while the nations were
All unraveling mercy gave
Life like a treasure
Spared
You remain
Near to the worn and dis
Couraged You still hold
Fast the one bent beneath the load
We will
Trust in the God who keeps
His servants grace will walk
Close through the breaking
Age
