As heirs, we call upon the Patriarch,
Whose house holds all of heaven’s wealth immense;
Crying “Abba! Father!” (Romans 8:15b)

As heirs, we call upon the Patriarch,
Whose house holds all of heaven’s wealth immense;
Not only does the Spirit raise the dead,
Which once you were in deed and attitude,
Who can, if God is for us, dare oppose?
Who can bring charge against God’s justified?
My brothers, we are debtors not to flesh
In bondage to our bodies’ every wish;
Anticipation hangs upon the breath
Of every creature dwelling on the earth,
O God, You are my God and all I seek;
For You alone, my soul is parched with thirst;
“With opened eyes, I see Him not of now,
And through God’s words behold Him from afar.
“The oracle of Balaam, Beor’s Son,
Of the man whose eye-curtains now divide,
“Give ear to me, O cursing son of wrath:
The LORD is not a man that He should lie
“The King of Moab from the eastern mountains
Has brought me from afar his words like kindling: