Michael Card (I Thessalonians 4:13) Maranatha is a cry of the heart That's hopeful yet weary of waiting While it may be joyful with the burdens it bears It's sick with anticipating To long for the Promised One day after day And the promise that soon He'd return It's certain that waiting's the most bitter lesson A believing heart has to learn Chorus Maranatha, How many more moments must this waiting last Maranatha, we long for the time when all time is past A commotion, a call then that will be all Though it's not yet the hour The minutes are ticking away Maranatha is the shout of the few Who for so long in history've been hiding Who truly believe that the sound of that call Might actually hasten His coming For no eye has seen and no ear has yet heard And no mind has ever conceived The joy of the moment when He will appear To the wonder of all who believe Chorus Maranatha, how hungry we are just to see Your face Parousia, to finally fall in one long embrace A commotion, a call and that will be all Though it's not yet the hour The minutes are ticking away
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Copy to Clipboard: Michael Card (I Thessalonians 4:13) Maranatha is a cry of the heart That's hopeful yet weary of waiting While it may be joyful with the burdens it bears It's sick with anticipating To long for the Promised One day after day And the promise that soon He'd return It's certain that waiting's the most bitter lesson A believing heart has to learn Chorus Maranatha, How many more moments must this waiting last Maranatha, we long for the time when all time is past A commotion, a call then that will be all Though it's not yet the hour The minutes are ticking away Maranatha is the shout of the few Who for so long in history've been hiding Who truly believe that the sound of that call Might actually hasten His coming For no eye has seen and no ear has yet heard And no mind has ever conceived The joy of the moment when He will appear To the wonder of all who believe Chorus Maranatha, how hungry we are just to see Your face Parousia, to finally fall in one long embrace A commotion, a call and that will be all Though it's not yet the hour The minutes are ticking away
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