I'm going through a hard time. Maybe you've been there too,

when you can't hear the voice of God no matter what you do.

 

You cannot see His face, or find Him in the gloom.

It feels like death, the inside of your tomb.

 

Encased in flesh, the body bound, confined by every law,

a frozen block of ice, waiting for the thaw.

 

Words, like a river, flowing without power,

spoken to the troubled Saints waiting in this hour.

 

Flames of fire dancing on my head

flooding my heart with what the Lord has said.

 

I see power from on high, filling every heart,

Resurrection Life, the Father's brand new start.

 

Freedom from this world, and all the ties which bind,

shackling the body, imprisoning the mind.

 

For the sake of freedom, Christ has made us free.

Come, Lord Jesus, be yourself in me.

 

From the throne, through me, let my tongue confess

that you are ready now the entire world to bless.

 

In Jacob's son; in Ishmael's too, in all the promised land,

magnify yourself, Oh Lord, in every grain of sand,

 

until love reigns in every place you see

and all have tasted freedom wherein Christ has made us free.

 

Written 4/28/02 for the Saints of the world.
Jan and Lenny Antonsson

17178 Highway 59, Neosho, MO 64850 (Snail Mail)

"Freedom," the Journal

The Glory Road

We're always delighted to hear from you!

jantonsson@aol.com

This page was uploaded to the web on 5/2/02

by Jan Antonsson, Webmeister,

and last edited on 6/24/09.