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Hallelujah in the Hidden Room The hidden room grows heavy with a hush that feels alive, and the night hangs thick with secrets only You can sanctify. Shadows press against the doorway as if waiting for a sign, but the silence breaks in reverence when Your presence crosses mine. Hallelujah in the hidden room, Hallelujah as the dark unfolds. Holy in the low and quiet spaces— Holy where the trembling soul is told. The walls lean in to listen as Your footsteps mark the floor, and the air begins to shudder with a truth none can ignore. No bright flare rends the darkness, no soft dawn comes to bloom— yet Your nearness shakes the ceiling when Your glory fills the room. Hallelujah in the hidden room, Hallelujah where the faint hearts fall. Holy when the silence meets Your thunder— Holy in the whisper of Your call. A slow weight drops from heaven like a mantle drawn in fire, and the deepest grief of midnight meets the fullness of desire. Every shadow bows in worship, every burden strains and breaks, for Your name becomes the river that no darkness ever shakes. Hallelujah in the hidden room, Hallelujah where the lost winds roam. Holy when the fear is left with nothing— Holy as the night is overthrown. Then the stillness starts to quiver as Your radiance thickens air, and the room that once felt empty turns to holy ground laid bare. No faint spark defines the moment, no faint star declares the frame— only You, in raw dominion, drawing praise from ash and flame. Hallelujah in the hidden room, Hallelujah as the deep hours bend. Holy in the weight of unseen glory— Holy in the silence without end. And when time itself grows breathless, when the final noise is stilled, every shadow in this chamber feels the hush of wonder filled. For You reign in secret places, You command each whispered tune, and the night itself sings worship when You walk the hidden room. Hallelujah in the hidden room, Hallelujah where all truths resume. Holy now and holy ever— Glory to the God who fills this room.