hymn #13 2026 - catharsis (B) (Tenor session)

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Worthiness is a mountain I cannot scale,
a height
above the valley floor
where I decay and fail.
I do not consider the King’s favor until forced up
from the dust where I am tossed,
for grace is not a ladder for the worthy;
it is a search party
for the lost.
There is no clever trick to sanctify a dead body
in the night,

I know the Way, the Truth, the Life,
and that knowledge is my blight.
I am supposed to walk even when the marrow is dry
and the bones are low,
and the answer
of the old man within me
is forever no.
Until the Spirit overrides the silence
of the grave,
with the gentle mercy
that can truly save.

Yet He restores my soul
even as I try
to dismantle it
beneath the open sky.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me,
even when I run
the other way.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me,
even when I stray.
I promised I’d hold myself accountable
when the die was cast,
but He promised
to hold me fast.
Yet He restores my soul
even as I try
to dismantle it
beneath the open sky.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me,
even when I run
the other way.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me,
even when I stray.
I promised I’d hold myself accountable
when the die was cast,
but He promised
to hold me fast.

Yet even the prophet was exhausted
and began to weep,
“I’ve had enough, Lord. Take my life,”
and he went to sleep.
But the cost
of the override was paid
on a hill I didn't climb,
if He can move the stone once, why leave me
in this time?
I feel like a parasite
at the King’s table,
unworthy of my space,
ignoring all the endless depths
of His redeeming grace.

But the Father’s house has many rooms,
and He is preparing one
even
for the slothful servant
hiding
from the sun.
He prepares a table
before me
in the presence
of my own self-loathing toll,
my ethics are a flickering wick,
but He will not quench my soul.
To ask me to be whole is to ask me to walk
on the sea,
and I have forgotten how to keep my eyes
on the One who calls
to me.

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I am caught in the thicket of my own will, and these two natures do not resolve or ever settle still. They must be broken by a staff of comfort and correction, for the Shepherd knows the path in His divine direction. Worthiness is a mountain I cannot scale, a height above the valley floor where I decay and fail. I do not consider the King’s favor until forced up from the dust where I am tossed, for grace is not a ladder for the worthy; it is a search party for the lost. There is no clever trick to sanctify a dead body in the night, I know the Way, the Truth, the Life, and that knowledge is my blight. I am supposed to walk even when the marrow is dry and the bones are low, and the answer of the old man within me is forever no. Until the Spirit overrides the silence of the grave, with the gentle mercy that can truly save. Yet He restores my soul even as I try to dismantle it beneath the open sky. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, even when I run the other way. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, even when I stray. I promised I’d hold myself accountable when the die was cast, but He promised to hold me fast. Yet He restores my soul even as I try to dismantle it beneath the open sky. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, even when I run the other way. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, even when I stray. I promised I’d hold myself accountable when the die was cast, but He promised to hold me fast. Yet even the prophet was exhausted and began to weep, “I’ve had enough, Lord. Take my life,” and he went to sleep. But the cost of the override was paid on a hill I didn't climb, if He can move the stone once, why leave me in this time? I feel like a parasite at the King’s table, unworthy of my space, ignoring all the endless depths of His redeeming grace. But the Father’s house has many rooms, and He is preparing one even for the slothful servant hiding from the sun. He prepares a table before me in the presence of my own self-loathing toll, my ethics are a flickering wick, but He will not quench my soul. To ask me to be whole is to ask me to walk on the sea, and I have forgotten how to keep my eyes on the One who calls to me. Yet He restores my soul even as I try to dismantle it beneath the open sky. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, even when I run the other way. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, even when I stray. I promised I’d hold myself accountable when the die was cast, but He promised to hold me fast.

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