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