What does He sound like, the man upstairs?
Is He loud and booming, shouting "Satan beware"?
Does He echo in the night, like an old faithful hound?
Does He unleash a song that could shake solid ground?

Or is He soft, and filled with resolve?
Knowing that soon His people will call?
Is His grin slightly cooked and His drawl of the south?
Does hope grow like kudzu when He opens His mouth?

Or does He sound different to each of us here?
Because He knows exactly what makes our hearts cheer?
Does He speak Pashto, and English, and Romanian?
So that He can make our broken lives whole again?

I trust in a God whose full name is LOVE
Who sends mercies each day like a new-flying dove
And if ever in life I should stumble and fall
I will rest on the ground and praise the Lord of all