Isaiah 63:9
It was no messenger or angel
but his presence that saved them;
in his love and in his pity he redeemed them;
he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.
How often you carry us, O God
without our knowing
or acknowledging your presence
We imagine our independence
We overestimate our ability
And all the while
yours are the arms that bear us
setting our feet on solid ground
Yours is the whisper of a call
that beckons us onward
Yours is the cadence of a song
that invites us to dance
As in days of old
stay with us
And make your presence known
that we may know your rhythm
in all of our days
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