When Mercy Found A Generation Poem by Christen Kuikoua

I am a prayer of this generation.
I must not waste away.
I must not fade like drifting wind.

O God, do not allow me to be wasted.
For if I am wasted, I know many will be wasted with me.

Rise me up, O Lord,
that I may gather the broken, the lost, the wasted—
those who look like me,
and lead them back to You.

Let our lips be filled with psalms,
with songs of praise,
crying aloud: Merciful is our Lord!

For we were wasted,
yet He breathed life into our dust.
We were dead,
yet He brought us back to life.

And now the nations stand as witnesses
to His mercy toward us.
Let every nation exalt His holy Name,
for He alone is worthy of all praise.

When death tried to claim us,
He set us free.
When lust became our dwelling place,
He rescued us from its chains.

He set us ablaze
like refined fire that purified.

O glorious God, who is like You?
Who saves like You?
Nobody.

Now the time has come to be born again.

For I came by prayer,
and I will remain in prayer.
And when I leave this world,
I will leave in prayer.