Come, let our singing rise to the Lord; Shout toward the rock that rescues us. Step into His presence carrying thanks; Lift a glad psalm where He can hear it. No power stands as high as the Lord. The deep places of earth and the mountain peaks are His. Sea and dry land came out of His hands; Bend low before the One who shaped us. He is our God, and we His people, Sheep within His guiding hand. Today, should His voice reach you, Let nothing turn your heart to stone. Do not repeat the wilderness rebellion, Testing God though wonders stood in sight. Forty years He grieved that generation; They would not enter into rest.