By Elijah

Oh, Maker of the universe,
Creation adores your wonder.
Promises you make are promises you keep.
Heaven and earth, sky and deep are beneath.

The Chosen, how you have chosen us,
Out of many, we became yours.
From father to father, and son to son,
None would forget of your faithfulness.

From favor to famine, and safety to slavery,
You provided, you protected, you promised.
From reign to ruin, and elite to exile,
You provided, you protected, you promised.

But we, oh we, fell short,
Yet you have not forsaken us.
We were drawn to the idols of the land
And we were the ones who have forsaken you.

Oh God, our God, how sacred, your name.
A jealous God, and just God, none compare.
How great, how mighty, your works.
How blind, how tranced were our eyes.

Your faith was much, but ours was little.
You asked of us, but we did not deliver.
In captivity, we stand, now remember,
“I will be their God; they will be my people.”