Wednesday, June 05, 2019


Isaiah stood before a sovereign throne
An unclean soul, he thought it was his end
His tongue, profanity, his sin to own
A burning coal, a call, “Who will I send?”
 A message for the lost – they will not hear
Eyes, stubborn, closed to God – they will not see
They keep Him at arm’s length, will not draw near
And never find the person they could be
 The call goes out again, “Who will I send?”
To speak a good-news message to the poor
The broken-hearted soul, to fix, to mend
To break the chains, bring down the prison door
 His Kingdom comes with all-consuming joy 
All heartache, tears and pain, He will destroy

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