Barren altars!

Barren altars! What reproach!
Empty cribs! The church forlorn.
Hear we ne’er God’s grand approach?
Blessed cry of babes new-born?


Havoc wrought midst Zion’s sons,
Dimly burns the feeble flame.
Few the faithful, burdened ones.
Vision, passion – but a name!



Bloodless prayers can never bless.
God forgive! Oft these are mine.
Give, O Christ, Thy brokenness,
Pain-filled fellowship divine.


Christ dwells in the broken heart,
This enshrines Gethsemane,
O, dear Lord, give me this part,
Sacrificial ministry.


Servants of His passion we,
Dazed and aching for the lost,
Marked the sighing forehead see,
One with Christ at life-blood cost.


Supplicate in blood sweat,
Intercede in agony.
Plead for souls with faces wet,
Passion learned at Calvary.


Souls! My heart breaks with the cry.
What counts else! What matters more!
Give me souls or else I die!
Violence storms at heaven’s door.


Sobbing in the secret place,
Broken-hearted anguish know,
Children will be born in grace,
God’s transforming blessing flow.


Earnest spirit’s fervency.
Flaming breath ascends, avails,
Prayer transcends vocab’lary,
Spirit unctioned prayer prevails.


Heav’ns shall rend and mountains flow,
Fiends of hell in terror flee,
Christ shall reign above, below!
His the glorious Victory!


~Mary Peckham (saved during the revival on the Isle of Lewis, 1949-52)