Prelude to Glory

by Dwain   May 6, 2004


God, harvest me from the field of unbelief
Your word is of flour
From which unshaped dough is derived
Knead me slowly and add yeast
For I am new in faith
Your commandments help me to ferment
To rise in your benevolent ways
Sprinkle me with the seasons of heaven
Give my deeds an aroma of righteousness
So that I will taste your glory

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