STREAMS IN THE DESERT
There were times, I know it, my
feet were nigh slipping. And only by grace did I stand. And the load I carried,
I knelt down below it. But I did not let go of His hand.
{Chorus} He made streams in the
desert, a way in the wilderness. The waters He parted and there was dry land.
He made streams in the desert, a way in the wilderness. Because I held to His
hand.
And the tempter untiring, drew
grand conclusions of what a poor fool I am. And through waves of worry and
clouds of confusion, still I did not let go of His hand. {Chorus}
And so my
brethren, commit to His keeping, your lives for Him to plan. For though trials
be grievous there’s no shame in weeping. Just don’t let go of His hand.
{Chorus}