Dale Lloyd

Faithful, covenant-keeping God,
Your promise You can never break—
not because we bind You by our works,
but for Your own name’s sake.

Religion makes it all about us:
we obligate You by being good.
We’re the reason we are blessed,
for in righteousness we’ve always stood.

We laboured long and earned our place,
the right to one day see Your face.
We confess it’s all of grace—
then boast that we have won the race,

as if we did it on our own,
through self-effort made our way back home.
But somewhere on the journey’s road
a truer vision came to me:

it’s all of You—and not at all of me.

It’s covenant, not credit—
the payment of the tab.
Another bore the cost in full;
my heart is overwhelmed and glad.

My spirit joins in the cosmic dance,
moved by just a single glance
of all the Master’s done for me,
secured in covenantal liberty.

So in this moment, one claim I make:
You did it all for Your own name’s sake.
Yes, I find my life within the sacred story—
but You are the Author,
and to You belongs the glory.