Though Prostrate in the Dust

Dear refuge of my weary soul,
On Thee, when sorrows rise
On Thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies
To Thee I tell each rising grief,
For Thou alone canst heal
Thy Word can bring a sweet relief,
For every pain I feel

But oh! When gloomy doubts prevail,
I fear to call Thee mine
The springs of comfort seem to fail,
And all my hopes decline
Yet gracious God, where shall I flee?
Thou art my only trust
And still my soul would cleave to Thee
Though prostrate in the dust

Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face,
And shall I seek in vain?
And can the ear of sovereign grace,
Be deaf when I complain?
No still the ear of sovereign grace,
Attends the mourner's prayer
Oh may I ever find access,
To breathe my sorrows there

Thy mercy seat is open still,
Here let my soul retreat
With humble hope attend Thy will,
And wait beneath Thy feet,
Thy mercy seat is open still,
Here let my soul retreat
With humble hope attend Thy will,
And wait beneath Thy feet

This is a plea. This is a plea to any believer that knows that there is more—more than what we’ve seen. This is to those who want the power of God to overwhelm their hearts. This is to those who believe that God is greater than we’ve made Him out to be. This is to the ones who desire to be a part of the generation that seeks His face—not because He offers the good life, but because He Himself is good.
This is a call. This is a call to the individual trapped in a pew once a week wondering why corporate Christianity is dead. This is a call to be more than a church member, and to enlist in the army. This is a call to passion and vibrancy and exuberant life that can only be found by plugging into the power source. When has a lamp ever shone without first being connected to a source of light?
This is a challenge. This is a challenge to be brave, to be bold, to be dangerous. This is an invitation to stand on the ragged edge of dangerous faith—to leave behind numbers and titles and material and recklessly abandon self for the cause of something greater. This is a challenge to cast off that weight which we have all fell victim to at one point or another—that weight of complacency, fear, hedonism, mediocrity. This is a challenge to let go and truly live what we believe.
I pity my former self—the being that once thought that belief was sufficient. I too once thought that morality was enough to experience the full life God had promised.

My heart still beats for more.
My heart still pounds for more.
More than belief.
More than morality.
More than corporation.
More than a song.
More than clichés.
More than casual prayer.
More than obligation.

More than what we are, because we still somehow missed the mark: God Himself.

He is life.

He is passion.

He is reality—more real than you or me.

He is whole and satisfying.

He is the one we have longed for-- ached for. Not morality or some claim to spirituality—God alone.

Let us now go and seek Him for all He is worth, and move beyond experience and emotion and feeling into the reality of a God, Creator, Savior, Lover, Friend, and Judge who is greater than our own perception.

Let us stand against complacency and shout, “Your face, O God, we will seek.”

Let us charge Hell and allow the Spirit to move among us—to move us.

Let us pursue the passion for which we long.

Oh, God, turn up the heat. Cause our hearts to throb and ache and long for more. Turn us inside out for who you are. Remove the scales from our eyes, and open us up to the world of awe and beauty that you reside in. Forgive our complacency. Forgive our routine. Restore us to the joy and life that You are.