Dear Father, You have been our dwelling place
Through generations and from age to age.
Before You set each mountain on its base
Or Earth displayed on Your creation’s stage,
From timeless past to everlasting days,
You are our God, a Rock from age to age.
You say to every man You formed from dust,
“You must return to dust, oh mortal one.”
To You, Oh Lord, a thousand years is just
A night’s waxing moon and day’s setting sun.
You wash away all people in their deaths,
For people resemble the morning grass
That sprouts anew and rises with new breath
But wilts and withers as a dried up mass.
I know within Your anger I’m consumed.
I tremble and I quiver at Your wrath.
You see my sins, and thus I fear I’m doomed.
Your presence lights my sins’ long, rugged path.
The days of our lives ebb away with fears.
Within Your wrath, years end with sighs and moans.
Perchance we’re given seventy full years
Or eighty healthy years without a groan,
Alas, life’s sorrows fill the youthful prime,
And years disappear and then we fly away.
Who comprehends Your righteous paradigm?
Your anger at mankind’s vile, wicked ways?
Require we count the days that You impart
So that wisdom reigns strong within our hearts!
Return, Oh Holy One, yes, come back soon!
Look on Your servants and show Your concern!
Your love each morning is the buoyant boon –
That is, our life-long song and joy we yearn!
May all the days of pain and moans and groans
Be overcome with years of joy and grace.
Oh, let Your handiwork for us be shown
With the splendor of Your glorious face!
May God’s beauty rest upon these wastelands.
May He establish the works of these hands.
Transform our barren fields to living lands.
Amen! Establish the works of these hands.
Jared Travis 