And the wrens have returned and they’re nesting
In the hollow of that oak where his heart once had been
And he lifts up his arms in a blessing for being born again
And the streams are all swollen with winter – winter unfrozen,
and free to run away now…
Every once in a while, I think we need to do this. We need to lift up our arms in the presence of the LORD, and bless Him. He set his face like a flint (the Scripture says) and went to that awful hill. There He died. There I revived.