Days of trembling uncertainty
A fateful window of opportunity
It is in these times of the unknown
God makes His purpose clearly known
The Church, His hands and feet
Awakened from slumber His will to meet
What the enemy intends for evil
God promptly works upon the chosen anvil
As the fire burns our souls to mould
He hammers out a masterpiece of gold
The birth pains though strong they be
Yields a shining vessel for all to see
As we are tempted and sorely tried
Twisted, mangled, relentlessly plied
A reflection of His face may they see
That through the torment and the pain
Eternal life if one believes to gain
Our temporary stay on earth
Oftimes as the brunt of the devil’s mirth
We are His instruments of grace
To share His light in a dark place
Lord, a song of love we sing
To your fold the lost we bring
Seasons of Grace 