Up From The Wasteland - Kerry Livgren

The traces of tears disappear in the desert

Where hot winds blow

The touch of a conscience is lost in the ice and snow

Ghosts of great cities, ruins of empires their spectres arise

No sign of the living beneath these skies

Minutes are passing, they turn into hours

The hours, they drift into days

O, Redeemer, lift us above this maze

Up from the wasteland, like a dream

Long forgotten reappearing

Up from the wasteland

Now redeemed, from a winter bleak and weary

Dry bones collected, connected by sinews

Stand as an army of men

Filled with the Spirit, they enter this world again

Its glorious light, or grey desolation

The lines of the battle are drawn

Jehovah, the rock that we stand upon

Up from the wasteland

We are drawn, to a glory never ending

Up from the wasteland

By His hand, our iniquity transcending

All our enemies beneath His feet

No height, nor depth, nor life, or death

Can take us away from His love