Track 6: The Threshold of Mercy
I have come to the edge of my own strength,
To the end of the road that I paved in pride.
I have measured the height and the breadth and the length,
Of the places I’ve wandered to run and to hide.
But the air here is heavy with something so pure,
A weight that I cannot—and must not—endure.
Break me open on the Altar of Your heart,
Tear the fabric of my spirit wide apart.
I am hollowed out, I am poor and I am small,
But You are the Atlas who upholds it all.
The sky is His temple and our heart is His home…
Lord, find a dwelling in these dry, dusty bones.
The First Adam failed in the shade of the leaves,
But the Second is found where the penitent grieves.
I confess every idol, I lay down my name,
I trade my “religion” for Your holy flame.
Cleanse me with hyssop, and wash me with tears,
Renew the devotion I’ve lost through the years.
Create in me a clean heart, oh God!
Renew a right spirit within me!
Cast me not away from Your presence!
Take not Your Holy Spirit from me!
Break me open on the Altar of Your heart,
Tear the fabric of my spirit wide apart.
I am hollowed out, I am poor and I am small,
But You are the Atlas who upholds it all.
On the sky able, undeniable.
Our hold is His home.
Break me open on the Altar of Your heart,
Tear the fabric of my spirit wide apart.
I am hollowed out, I am poor and I am small,
But You are the Atlas who upholds it all.
On the sky able, undeniable.
Our heart is His home.