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by Clinton Herring

This word is used by all too much
for people, places, things and such.

One alone it describes all well,
God and Son, their work I'll tell.

Their love so strong, it conquered all,
my sin, my death, and man's great fall.

In human form, Son's life did give,
a gruesome death that we might live.

A substitution and a ransom paid
that death did die and life not fade.

A mighty work, His purpose sure,
this sovereign Majesty my cure.

The one who mandates time its course,
creation, life - His word the source.

For God is more, yes one in three,
Father, Son and Spirit they be.

Above all creatures, angels, might,
God alone commands the light.

All life and love His brilliant story!
His Son's sure work, the Father's glory!

We are but creatures far too small,
in His hands, His righteous thrall.

All others to Him must surely pale,
an infinite distance and all so frail.

This word but Him it should describe,
This word to Him we all ought ascribe.

Who but He is AWESOME, true!
No other but They, yes through and through!

Father, Son, and Spirit in three,
God is AWESOME, yes only He!

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