You Lift Me Up
Oh rose of Sharon I am the apple of your eye,
I speak with many mouths but with one voice I cry.
Early in the morning I hear you call me,
drawn by your expensive grace and holy victory.
You lift me up to the holy of holies, as I bow before your throne in glory.
No mater how persecuted, dark or oppressed,
I fall down on my face in a holy Sabbath rest.
On this Day of Atonement I afflict my soul
I sit down in the dust in sackcloth and ashes.
You lift me up to the holy of holies, as I bow before your throne in glory.
I quiet my soul as a child at the breast drawn by
your tender love and perfect righteousness.
What do I have to offer you, only but my need,
to sit at your feet is the highest place I could be.
You lift me up to the holy of holies, as I bow before your throne in glory
~ Stephanie Z
I speak with many mouths but with one voice I cry.
Early in the morning I hear you call me,
drawn by your expensive grace and holy victory.
You lift me up to the holy of holies, as I bow before your throne in glory.
No mater how persecuted, dark or oppressed,
I fall down on my face in a holy Sabbath rest.
On this Day of Atonement I afflict my soul
I sit down in the dust in sackcloth and ashes.
You lift me up to the holy of holies, as I bow before your throne in glory.
I quiet my soul as a child at the breast drawn by
your tender love and perfect righteousness.
What do I have to offer you, only but my need,
to sit at your feet is the highest place I could be.
You lift me up to the holy of holies, as I bow before your throne in glory
~ Stephanie Z
