Give my life and let it be
allocated all to me.
Give my moments and my days;
all to spend in my own ways,
all to spend in my own ways.
Give my hands and let them move
at the impulse of my mood.
Give my feet and let them be
swift and clandestine for me,
swift and clandestine for me.
Give my voice and let me fling
hateful words despite their sting.
Give my lips and let them be
filled with enmity towards thee
filled with enmity towards thee.
In springtime, I wince at the sight of a deer
That lies by the side of our street.
But sorrow is instantly blended with cheer–
A daffodil grows at its feet!
Creation is groaning while clapping its hands.
Its cycles continue to teach
That death is the seed in God’s glorious plan.
Yet harvest feels so out of reach.
We weep with the ache of a life gone too soon,
Rejoice with the gift of new birth,
Perceiving the womb was the baby’s cocoon,
Not thinking the same of the earth.
I prayed to my Father in heaven above,
To ask for a gift that is good,
Expecting He’d give me a sign of His love—
I seem to have misunderstood.
I thought I was one He considers His own,
But how can this be from His hand?
It stings like a serpent, weighs heavy like stone.
It’s more than my soul can withstand.
I turn to the pages of words that He gave—
He promised I’ll find when I seek.
I hope to discover the answers I crave
In One who is lowly and meek.
The hist’ry books are filled with lines
That mark the passing of the times.
They tell of battles lost and won,
Of circles traveled ‘round the sun,
Of men who lived in days of yore
Who left things different than before.
But lines can’t show us the extent
Of impact from each lone event.
This morning, my baby woke hot to my touch.
What have I accomplished? I answer, “Not much.”
I snuggled her close and I canceled my plans.
I fell more behind on all life’s demands.
I offered up prayers as she slept in my arms.
Her smile returned and she came through unharmed.
I feel so relieved and yet nothing got done.
I don’t think I’m helping God’s kingdom to come.
If all I see is here and now,
Then hope at once eludes me.
For this is not where I belong;
This world is not what soothes me.
It lacks the peace I want to feel
And there’s no satisfaction,
And if it’s all that will exist,
Despair is my reaction.
We always go to grandma’s house
On Sundays for our lunch.
Nine cousins eating frosting bread—
We are a crazy bunch.
Play hide and seek and ring the bell,
Get candy when we go.
And that’s what grandma’s means to me
Since I am just a girl.
The peace of the rays that are shining,
The hurt of a day gone awry,
Are both of my God’s good designing
To make me sing praise as I sigh.
The beauty of waves that are crashing,
The sorrow that’s breaking my heart,
Are both of his glorious mercy
To change me from inside to out.
I hope when all is said and done
We’re standing side by side,
With eyes fixed on the only One
On whom we have relied.
I hope I’m there to hear Him say,
“You gave it all to me.
You gave me every bit of time
And all your energy.
“You walked the path of life that I
Laid out before your feet,
And now the joy has filled your eyes
As face-to-face we meet.
There was a path I longed to walk
That falsely promised joy and peace
But thoughts of Jesus seemed to block
The entrance to that path of ease.
I knew that in the years before
I did not hesitate to go
For promised pleasure swayed me more
Than Jesus and the love He shows.
When my knees hit the ground and my head bowed in pain,
I spoke with my trainer to ask him again,
“Why does this need to be so hard to bear?
If you give me a break, then I’ll know that you care.
"I asked you to help me grow faster and stronger
But now I’m not sure I can take this much longer.
For this feels like weakness, not strength, like you said.
Can this training really turn out for my good?”
