The Sojourner’s Song


Sunrise in Arlington, Texas. – R.H.

Here I’ll stay a while
Here I’ll rest my head
Here I’ll spread the canvas
Here I’ll drive the tent pegs

No walls to guard me at night
No city gates to keep me safe
Only cloth between me and the sky
A City is promised, but not yet

Sojourner, traveler, I wander
Through these lands
Promised but not fulfilled
Promised but not yet

Not a city of earthen walls
Not a city made by hands
I wait for something sweeter
A Holy City in a Promised Land

Promised, not yet fulfilled
Promised, but not yet
Still waits the consummation of
A people, and our place of final rest


Foundation Stone

IMG_2429.JPG Where could I run
Where could I hide
If Thy righteousness
Stood not by my side

Where then my hope
And what then my plea
If Thou, O my Savior
Died not for me

Where then my trust
My comfort and peace
If Thy sacrifice
Did not this one redeem

Nothing, nothing
Apart from Thee, dear Father
Nothing, nothing
Apart from my Savior’s blood
Nothing, nothing
Apart from the Spirit’s sustaining grace
Not a hope, not a plea
Apart, O Lord my God, from Thee

So catch me, lest I drift
I’ve no power on my own
Lord, now more than ever I need Thee
I believe, I believe, help Thou my unbelief

Forever Faithful

Solid rock
Sturdy ground
Here I plant my faltering feet
Here my hope is found

Great is Thy faithfulness
Sure is Thy love
My heart turns daily
But turns not the grace which flows from above

Great is Thy faithfulness
From day unto day
Provide, sustain, enliven
Strengthen this fainting heart
That is so prone to stray

Solid rock
Sturdy ground
Firm beneath my trembling feet
Here I’ll sink my hope and trust
Here I find my soul’s relief

Broken, needy, craving rest
Once more I come before Your throne

Sunday Morn


O Father, once again we come

Broken, humbled, craving rest

Once again, we approach Your throne

Once again, Your name we bless


Not by our works, oh no

O Lord, not by our deeds

Not by our own fragile strength

Have we secured the right to bend the knee


We come by the blood our Savior shed

We come by the life He purchased in death

We come by the hope He forever secured

We come by the grace that always endures


Not by our own strength, oh no

Lord not by our own prowess

Only by Your might, O Lord

Can we kneel, and praise, and bless


So Lord take our hearts

Though feeble a gift they be

Take our very life and breath

Bend them wholly unto Thee


Not our own will, oh no

O Lord, not our own dreams

Your will and Your glory

Not ours but Yours, O Sovereign King


Towers crumble

Nations rage

Our days run out

But You remain

King o’er the ages


And so we rise

Go about our daily deeds

Keenly aware of Your sustaining care

And our own desperate, daily needs

Valley of Dry Bones

“And he said to me, ‘Son of man, can these bones live?” And I answered, “O Lord GOD, you know.'” – Ezekiel 37:3

Dead bones, dry bones
Buried in the dust
Parched as death
Forgotten, lifeless

“Son of man
Can these bones live?”
“My Lord wills all
And life he gives.”

Mighty God!
Dull bones shook
Built themselves up
Grew flesh and stood.

Life out of death
Hope from the grave
My God brings life
Peace is made.


Hurry up
But not too fast
This day
Might be your last

So don’t be afraid to pause
And notice the beauty
Surrounding you on every side
Take a long breath
Raise your head
Soak the sun and drink the sky

So walk on by
But not to quick
Today might be the only
Day you’ve left to live

Watch the wonder
In a child’s eyes
Read the tales
In the laugh-lines
Crinkling in the corners
Of your grandfather’s eyes

Rise, brave heart
Rise and face the day
Let each breath be a prayer
Of thanks for grace

Whatever you do
Wherever you tread
Whatever your path
Give thanks for the grace
Bestowed on your head

It is grace that sustains
Your weary heart
Grace bears you up
And each passing breath imparts

There Is an Ocean

Avila Beach, San Louis Obispo, California

Avila Beach, San Louis Obispo, California

There is an ocean

I’m standing on its shore

Without boundary or measure

After time and before


The waves lap my feet

And they call out to me

They speak of fathomless love

And undeserved mercy


I glance down at my grimy feet

And at my bloodstained hands

I’ve borne these wrongs for so long

Perhaps I should stay on the sand


What if the flood isn’t enough

What if the stains remain

How can I ever hope to be clean

Doubt weighs me down iron chains


But again lap the waves

Again beckons the flow

Again sings the flood

“Come, be washed pure as snow”


And the ocean waves

Are not a watery flood

The are scarlet red

The ocean is waves of blood


Can this blood heal my scars

Wash away every stain

Will I rise from the depths

Whole and sound again


Still the ocean calls

So I draw a deep breath

I walk down in the waves’ midst

And down to my death


For the flood washes me

Of all that is not clean

I died that day

No power—the past but a dream


But dear friend

It wasn’t the end

I live again


I am complete

No more do I sleep

Not glorified yet

But forever redeemed