1-2. A prayer of the prophet Habakkuk, with orchestra:God, I’ve heard what our ancestors say about you,and I’m stopped in my tracks, down on my knees.Do among us what you did among them.Work among us as you worked among them.And as you bring judgment, as you surely must,remember mercy.
3-7. God’s on his way again,retracing the old salvation route,Coming up from the south through Teman,the Holy One from Mount Paran.Skies are blazing with his splendor,his praises sounding through the earth,His cloud-brightness like dawn, exploding, spreading,forked-lightning shooting from his hand—what power hidden in that fist!Plague marches before him,pestilence at his heels!He stops. He shakes Earth.He looks around. Nations tremble.The age-old mountains fall to pieces;ancient hills collapse like a spent balloon.The paths God takes are olderthan the oldest mountains and hills.I saw everyone worried, in a panic:Old wilderness adversaries,Cushan and Midian, were terrified,hoping he wouldn’t notice them.
17-19. Though the cherry trees don’t blossomand the strawberries don’t ripen,Though the apples are worm-eatenand the wheat fields stunted,Though the sheep pens are sheeplessand the cattle barns empty,I’m singing joyful praise to God.I’m turning cartwheels of joy to my Savior God.Counting on God’s Rule to prevail,I take heart and gain strength.I run like a deer.I feel like I’m king of the mountain!(For congregational use, with a full orchestra.)