Wednesday, December 12, 2001
a psalm of Gar
spoken to the sound of an accoustic guitar
and the rolling beat of twin Technics SL-1200s
Praise be to the Lord on high,
God of my father, God of my mother,
your faithfulness echoes in the silence of my trials.
When I entered into the valley,
feet treading a ground of darkened shadows,
foolishly I said to myself, "I will be my own guide."
But alone amidst the cold night,
my feet stumbled to find the path,
Until you reached down and led me to safety.
Before I even cryed out,
your spirit took compassion upon me,
the righteousness of your hands carried my brokeness.
On your holy mountain, O God,
I was brought not to be accused of my transgressions,
but put before your presence to recieve mercy and grace.
Let all the earth know of you,
God of forgiveness and hope,
the Lord and Savior of even men such as I.
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