Where can I go when my cistern
Of love is nearly dry?
Easily angered, often defeated,
Sooner or later I cry…
Lifting my eyes to the hills,
Where does my help come from?
The Lord on High works through His Body–
A church where real people come!
Our congregation is smallish,
Not a large sea of faces…
Filled with the Holy, worship Him solely–
It happens in few local places.
There my spirit refreshes as in a shower–
Clothes on–receive His Power…
Let the King come in to wash away sin,
Strengthening His people in that hour!