Ashes on the Altar

I was leaning on a canyon, with my fist against the sky.
Then I heard a quiet mercy in the places I'd gone dry.
Not a thunderbolt or vision, just a hand upon my back.
And the road that I had burned up led me gently where I lacked.
Grace found me when I was gone.
Grace found me and held me on.
I lost my voice, I lost my flame.
Grace found me and called my name.