In these times when our grasp of the truth is so tenuous
and what's true means no more than what each one decides:
what is true is so often bent by desire,
twisted and stretched beyond recognition
'til it snaps and becomes - a lie...
We torture the truth to fit our designs:
grotesquely distorting its beauty,
misshaping its perfect function and form,
molesting its innocent purity,
laying waste a gift we are blessed to hold
in our souls, in our thoughts, in our hearts,
in the life truth calls us to reverence and share...
But the truth, Lord, survives our ham fisted bungling,
our incompetent, selfish muddling
our ungrateful and rude rejection
of a gift undeserved and yet freely given,
waiting still, and again, to be divined,
discovered and discerned...
This much, this night, I know is true:
it's the end of the day, Lord,
a day you made and gave as gift,
yet another day for me to find and know your truth,
the truth you speak so freely,
the truth you speak to set me free...
Open my mind and heart to your truth,
to the whole of your truth and only your truth:
cleanse me of all that's deceitful and false,
let your truth find a home in my soul, Lord,
and my soul be at home in your truth...
Protect me, Lord, while I'm still awake
and watch over me when I fall sleep
that awake, I might keep watch for your truth
and asleep, rest in its peace...
Amen.
Speak, O Lord by Keith and Kristyn Getty
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