O, Ancient of Days,
We come from rivers that are not rivers,
from fountains that do not sing of life,
from barren springs where promise has failed,
from stony wells that mock the dream of Jubilee.
But from the abundance of your life,
roll down upon us now the tide of your sweet Spirit,
that flagging faith be refreshed,
that stubborn wounds be cleansed and healed,
that brokenness be drenched with wholeness,
that what is defiled and disgrace be washed and relieved.
From the headwaters of your mercy and goodness,
flood the flatlands of resignation,
carry away what is trifling, jaded, and vain,
fill the cisterns provided to slake our thirst,
fill us with yearning to mirror your lavish giving,
brim the hearts of your people with tears of compassion
and the laughter of joyful service.
From heaven's watershed of grace and salvation,
cascade upon us the fullness of your realm;
let its thunder possess our whole hearts,
let its simplicity be our peace,
let its quaking be our only strength.
River of healing, Spirit of life,
grant this we beg you;
for love of your only One we pray.
-Written by Jonathan Larson, Mennonite Pastor. from