Lose my Soul

There are twenty (give or take a few) lines in one of my favourite songs. 

There will be twenty paragraphs in this blog post. 

Give or take a few. 

 

Father God, I am clay in Your hands...

Changeable, moody, colourful clay. Not consistent at all. And yet...You still mold me. Gradually, sometimes painfully, but You're always molding. It's an incomparable feeling, Your kind of grace and persistence. But I am seeing those changes. Yes. They are microscopic and patient, but they are there. And they're continually appearing. 

Help me to stay that way through all life's demands...

It's tough, You know. Staying pliant. The world around me is constantly hardening my perspective and desensitizing my heart, but... You still knead and stretch. El-Gibhor. The Mighty God. No matter how strong and persuasive this world is, You are stronger still. It's grateful, I am. 

'Cause they chip and they pull and they nag at me...

I'm really, really glad that You have a quiet, still voice. It does get hard to hear, but I think that's what makes it so special--it's completely unique. Everything else is loud and full of pandemonium and nagging. But You say, "Be still. Know that I AM God."

And everything that I make up my mind to be...

Pfft. I don't make anything up. It's all there, hidden deep inside, knitted in by You. I just uncover it over time. These talents and areas I excell in, the goals I make for myself and strive toward, the thoughts I think and the things I do, You knew them all before Time. And You wrote them all. The Author and Finisher of my faith. You don't approve of everything I do. In fact, I think that most of the things I do are offensive to You. But there's that Amazing Grace again. And again. And again, again. 

I was lost when You found me here
You pulled me close and held me near
And I'm a fool but still You love
I'll be your fool for the king of love

He gave me wings so I could fly
And gave me a song to color the sky
And all I have is all from You
And all I want is all of You

It's grace, grace
I'm nothing without You
Grace, Your grace
Shines on me

And there've been days when I've walked away
Too much to carry
Nothing left to say
Forgive me, Lord, when I'm weak and lost.
You traded heaven for a wooden cross

And all these years You've carried me
You've been my eyes when I could not see
And beauty grows in the driving rain,
Your oil of gladness in the times of pain

It's grace, Your grace
I'm nothing without You
Grace, Your grace
Shines on me

--Grace, Michael W. Smith