Shut In With God In A Secret Place
By Carol Chkoreff
Oh the mysteries of being shut in with God in a secret place,
Gaining the power to defeat the enemies schemes without a trace.
What marvelous glories stream from His heavenly face,
Oh I love to be shut in with God in a secret place.
Dwelling in the secret place of the most high God is where the battle is won,
Won on our knees bended in deep submission with God to be one.
Known only to saints intent on a mission of beholding God with intercession.
Interlocking the power of the supernatural glory of God in session.
Oh Ancient of Days rise up and defeat these foes who imagine they have won,
Them not knowing the source of life and the mystery of "The One."
Oh how deep and wide and high is the love of God that presents,
Presenting the power to claim worlds of lost pilgrims with no relent.
Relentless, the Hound of Heaven pursues the lonely pilgrim until found,
To be carried into the streams of Heaven's funnels of glorious sound.
Catching a glimpse of the glorious sounds no mortal can comprehend,
Catapulting that seeking soul into a pool of absolute bliss, wounds to mend.
The Balm of Gilead, a healing ointment, not made with mortal hands,
Caresses the broken contrite heart bended in that immortal land.
Oh to be shut in with God to receive all that He freely gives His child,
Who has yearned for the courts of The Lord away from all the worldly wild.