Oh God deserving of all the glory.
God who loves me so much, hear my prayers.
To what do I give my attention...
To whom my reflection of your love.
What friends need me the most?
For whom shall I pray?
Should I study for school, or study deeper into your truths?
Should I stay here, or take my life there?
Is there time enough in the day, is sleep even important?
Why do I feel lonely, why do I still search for the next?
I know I can’t balance a life with “her”...
Still leaving room enough for you.
You can’t trust me to keep “her” safe...
You can’t trust me to not lead “us” astray.
The day you are my whole world...
Will be the day someone else can be a part of it.
The day I need no one but you...
Will be the day that I have nothing to lose.
The day I live to make you everything...
Will be the day someone else can call me theirs.
For if I am not living for you...
Than what is this life for?
Yet good intentions go no where.
How can I live out the plan by which you have intended?
Am I living for you, am I going the right direction?
In my fears and doubts I find more and more questions...
To which you respond: “Draw near!”
The closer I come to you, the clearer I see...
The more I hear your echos.
Guide me straight oh Lord, so that your will can be done.
In my life, as you intend it in Heaven.
Lord-- my heart, broken and fragile, still finds room to carry...
The troubles of both myself and of others.
When will I stop and hand it all over to you?
When will I let go of the weight?
Do I not trust you, Do I not truly believe?
Am I doing this alone?
Perhaps yes, potentially no...
Only you God can see through to my heart.
My life is in fast-forward, I “can’t” find the time.
My eyes close, but still my mind wanders.
Sleepless I remain, until to you I run.
Restless I lay, till I meet you with arms wide open.
With questions, I stay awake, until I turn to you for answers.
Thanks, God; for easing my heart.
Thanks for lifting my burdens.
Thanks for taking away all of the weight.
Thank you, my Father, for tucking in your broken child.
