Victorious God
King of all kings
Beyond my façade
My stirred soul sings
Of you and your love
Of your rich grace
Below and above
My deepest disgrace 

You alone are God of all
You alone are worthy of praise
You have conquered death and the fall
You are God, the Ancient of Days 

You rise to our cries
As you rose from the grave
With love in your eyes
And a yearning to save
You weep for the lost
And rejoice with the found
You have counted the cost
Your mercies abound 

You alone are God of all
You alone are worthy of praise
You have conquered death and the fall
You are God, the Ancient of Days 

From Calvary’s mount
From the empty tomb
Springs an endless fount
To engulf and consume
The dry, thirsty soul
In its cleansing flood
Healed and made whole
By the water and blood

You alone are God of all
You alone are worthy of praise
You have conquered death and the fall
You are God, the Ancient of Days

The theme of my song 
The cry of my heart
A place to belong
No longer apart
To be close to you
Closer than skin
Restored and renewed
True peace within

You and I 
Bound by blood 
You and I 
Falling in love 
You and I 
Bound by grace 
You and I 
One embrace  

My soul is consumed 
By this love I found
Like spring flowers bloom
Sweet fragrance abound
You delight in me
And call me your son
Your mercy sets free 
We dance with abandon

You and I 
Bound by blood 
You and I 
Falling in love 
You and I 
Bound by grace 
You and I 
One embrace

We are the incarnation of grace,
Radiance in this darkened place,
Hope where hope has been erased,
We are the incarnation of grace.

We are the aroma of the risen Christ,
His presence to the estranged and enticed,
His victory to those locked in sin’s vice,
We are the aroma of the risen Christ. 

We are His hands offering assistance,
His proximity to those kept at a distance.
His strength to those with no resistance,
We are His hands offering assistance.

We are His defense to those under attack,
His feet to those off the beaten track,
The rear-guard for those lingering back,
We are His defense to those under attack.

We are the incarnation of grace,
Radiance in this darkened place,
Hope where hope has been erased,
We are the incarnation of grace.

The written word cannot convey, 
or art or song or dance array
your beauty and splendor.
And so I surrender
to the fact
that
I
must,
from dust,
ascribe to you
the praise you’re due.

We write of you who cannot be written.
We sing of you who cannot be sung.
We paint of you who cannot be painted
We dance to you who created dance. 

The poet’s pen will surely fail,
the painter paints to no avail.
All impressions are a fraud
of you, oh infinite God,
whose presence
and essence
will
consume
and exhume
these dead forms
that grace transforms. 

So we write of you who cannot be written.
We sing of you who cannot be sung.
We paint of you who cannot be painted
We dance to you who created dance. 

Our artistic attempts to express
cannot capture your caress,
yet though we fall short,
we do not abort
these efforts
to convert
our
emotions
and commotions
into valid expressions
of our sacred profession.

So we write of you who cannot be written.
We sing of you who cannot be sung.
We paint of you who cannot be painted
We dance to you who created dance.

I’m thankful for a God whose love
has depths and dimensions
that defy comprehension,
whose mercy and compassion
have neither limit nor ration,
and exceed the confines
of my feeble mind.
I’m thankful for a God whose grace exceeds
my ability to squander it,
who pursues me in my wandering,
who never gives up,
who always lives up
to His name
and glory
and honor.
I’m thankful for the Christ, the Messiah,
who dwelt among the least,
the despised and diseased,
who was maligned and falsely accused,
whose body was battered and abused.
I’m thankful for a mount called Golgotha
where love personified
and incarnate died,
where mercy and justice united,
man and God no longer divided.
I’m thankful for a tomb,
empty,
gaping,
vacant,
evidence of a resurrection power,
proof that death has been devoured,
power that is now mine
thru the resurrection of the divine,
so I shall not die, but live,
forgiven so I can also forgive.
I’m thankful for the abiding and patient Spirit,
the living God in me
setting me free
from my captivity.
I’m thankful for the power of that same Spirit within me
using me to draw women and men
to the God who’s in love with them,
in spite of me,
not because of me.
I’m thankful for the blessed hope of the soon return
of the slain and risen Lamb,
Son of God and of man,
the King of kings,
the Lord of lords,
of whom saints and angels sing
in harmonious chords.
I’m thankful that His return will birth
and usher in the new heaven and earth.
Gone will be sorrow and sin.
Gone will be death and disease.
All the redeemed will be welcomed in
to joy and bliss that will not cease.
Gone will be all that keeps this feeble man
from pure communion
from perfect union
with my God and with my fellow man.
I’m thankful for a faithful God who has fulfilled His covenant
thru Jesus Christ our Lord.
So let us all in one accord,
each who now rejoices
lift our joyous voices
and proclaim, “We are thankful!”

Though all around me shifts and moves,
Though my thoughts and acts accuse,
God will be faithful to His plan,
Righteous to His covenant,
To keep those He has redeemed,
To protect the weak and low-esteemed.
His promises cannot be broken.
He will fulfill what He has spoken.
So trust this God whose heart of grace
Redeems from every tribe and race
Those who others have condemned,
Those too weary to pretend,
Those who sense a soul-deep need
For this God of love, this love that bleeds.
So when your last hope has flown,
God’s shed blood will atone
And redeem all you have lost,
Freely offered at the high cost
Of the Lamb’s deadly wounds,
Of the cool of the empty tomb. 

May you know this shepherd King.
May your soul enraptured sing
Praises to Him who makes you whole.
May joy and peace flood your soul. 

God is righteous.
God is faithful.

Love covers over a multitude of sins.
Love embraces before repentance begins.
If we only love those who also love us,
It is not born of God, but born of dust.
Love always triumphs, love always wins.
Love covers over a multitude of sins.

“For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all…” (I Cor. 5.14 NIV)

Christ’s Spirit indwells us,
And His love compels us,
To go and love with the love we are shown.
As salt and as light,
To inflame and ignite,
The passions of those estranged and alone.

And when we obey,
These frail jars of clay
Are overflowing with the Water of Life.
We carry His mercy
To those who are thirsty,
To those overwhelmed by sorrow and strife.

We go, for Christ goes
To seek and find those
Locked in the grip of sin and despair.
Our motive is grace,
We share His embrace,
We show Jesus cares in the ways that we care.

We go with intent
To spend and be spent.
We go for our lives are no longer our own.
We love with the love
That Jesus shows us.
We go for we know His love will atone.

Our mission is clear,
Go far and go near,
To reconcile those under the curse.
To bring Living Water
To parched sons and daughters
To bring back to Christ the despised and dispersed.

The love of Christ compels us.