Prayers

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Creator God, I would draw near
Your stories and your songs to hear.
For like a child my soul would bide
And sit by Father’s fire-side.
O Lord of Stories, King of song,
Bring counsel, courage. Make me strong.

Before all time Your tale begins
Before rebellious man, he sins,
Your Word established Earth’s foundation
Angels sang in celebration.
But joy then changed to deep lament
As evil from your presence went.

But e’en when Adam made his choice,
Your sorrow did not still Your voice.
Your story of redemption speaks
From deepest seas to highest peaks.
With awe we see, as daylight dies,
Your glowing letters in the skies;
The new song of the rising sun:
The world reborn when dark is done.
Then forth from many a feathered throat
Come songs of joy You skillf’ly wrote.

Yet few will stop, Your voice to hear
In nature’s clarion-call so clear,
Nor hearken to the Laws of life
That keep us safe and free from strife.

The greatest hist’ries ever told
Recorded now from days of old,
True tales and songs of by-gone ages
Are writ now in bible pages;
Telling me that Story True
And how we may turn back to You;

And how you sent our Saviour bold
Who many a telling story told,
Your Heav’nly Kingdom to proclaim
And find salvation in His Name.
The greatest Bard of all was He,
Who died and rose to set us free.

He sent Your Spirit to inspire
Your faithful folk with Holy fire.
Upon our hearts, Your sov’reign will
You write with Your Great Spirit’s quill;
To tell and sing redemtion’s song,
To light the darkness, right the wrong.

So, on this pilgrim’s path I tread,
Pass through this vale of dark and dread,
I write, I rhyme, I sing my lays
That some may hear, and give You praise.
My message many laugh to scorn.
I leave, disheartened, tired, forlorn.
For who, alone, can cast aside
Self-serving Self, self-centred pride?

Yet I return to see seed sown
Unwittingly, and how they’ve grown!
Encouraged, then I take the road,
Though rough the way and hard the load.
But when You’re with me, by Your might
The yolk is easy, burden’s light.
O help us, Lord, to tell Your tale!
All lies expose, let Truth prevail!
Your truth speak with the Lion’s roar,
And being gen’rous to the poor;
Yet gently, with compassion’s tear,
Speak graciously to those who hear;

Creator God, create in me
Your kind of creativity.
O give me words that heal the soul,
That brings new hope, that makes men whole;
And words of heav’nly wisdom speak
(Not somethin’ that’s way up the creek!)
In vain is that creative flame
That does not magnify Your Name.
So now, Creator God, I pray
come talk with me along the way.


Copyright © Arthur D Bardswell

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