Wash over me Dear Spirit,
Gently bathe my heart.
Bind me up, in scarlet threads
Lest I should fall apart.
My soul so very weary,
Such a long and troubled road.
‘Take my yoke‘, You said, ‘it’s easy.’
Why labor such a load.
We give it up, then take it back,
Faith tested, tried, and seasoned.
Every which way that we can,
Failing Wisdom, searching reason.
and then, when we are all poured out.
Crumbled on the floor,
We beg You Father,
‘Come to me,
I can’t do this any more.’
How fickle is the sinners heart.
How precious Holy Grace.
Scarlet threads, and nails and tears,
and Love all interlaced
Wash over me Dear Spirit.
Take my weariness, my sorrows.
Fill me full with Hope anew.
The Promise of Tomorrow.
Remind me of the scarlet threads,
From whence they came and Who.
That I may cast all care aside,
and find my Joy in You.
‘Come unto me, all ye that are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.'
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