My soul grows rich

My soul grows rich in wonder and joy,

The majesty and mercy of the Almighty

Pour over my soul

And I am washed,

Away,

As flotsam and jetsam,

In the torrent of his glory.

His love, like his wisdom,

Knows no bounds.

He holds the universe

in his hands

as tenderly as a father

holds his first born.

He sings songs to us

And tells us stories

That we do not understand

But we know

When we cry

He hears and responds

And

in the depths of our being

we know

we are loved