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The Source Is You

It's night, O Lord, please hear my call; 
I know You want my very all. But wells are 
deep; how can you give. The wordless pain 
in which you live.! 

It's night, O Lord, be swift to hear; To 
bring relief for falling tears. Needless 
pain, don't let it be; But healing pain, 
to set me free. 

Be still, My child; My whispers hear. 
Lean hard, My child; come very near. This 
well so deep with suffering filled must 
empty first, till all is still. 

I'll take the hurt; I'll take the strife; 
In hands so strong I'll hold your life. 
I'll fill the well with heaven's gain, 
When you, My child, give Me the pain. 

I'll take it, mold it, make it Mine; 
Transform it then to love divine. Turn 
sorrow into fullest joy far greater 
than earth's brightest toy. 

For toys of earth cannot compare. With 
Christ your Lord, so real, so fair. He, 
Christ alone, demands your all.  Give Me 
that pain, He softly calls. 

I shrink, then reach with outstretched 
hand; Dredged of self, alone to stand. 
Then from the depths of Love so true. 
The well is filled again, anew. 

This time it's not with pain and me, 
But Christ my all, my joy to be. To 
depths before unknown I climb, His 
peace, His joy, His life all mine. 

For pain so deep, felt all alone, Is 
fertile ground for Love - His own! 
Love that fills and meets life's need; 
O deep, deep well, I'm rich indeed. 

Filled up with Him, His love alone; 
His way revealed; His glory shone. O 
well of deep, dark yesterday; Embrace 
the joy He gives today. 

O, night, no longer fear your dark; He 
stills the aching, struggling heart. 
And from that heart -- life's deepening 
well, Comes love to share; rich joy 
to tell. 

O, night, give way to endless day..! 
I've found His depths, His highest 
way..! O, night, give way to morning's 
dew; The well is deep; The source is 

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