Innocently, our mystery and providence
brakes the stranglehold upon this confidence
and as the attempt to grasp a hold of it
we lose our grip, it slips as does our wit.
And all we can reclaim are the broken bits
shattered and jagged are all that we get
we slice our fingers until they bleed
picking up the things that we thought we’d need.
Yet on our knees with all of this mess
contrite, we fight this need to confess
yet it bites at our heels and pulls us still
discarding the shattered and hopes that will kill.
A light to our sight is cast in our night
it scatters our fears and increases our fight
it charges our hope, the need to be free
lifting our burdens and making us see
That death to the body is not death to the soul
there is a Savior who is making us whole.
We might be weak but He will be strong
lifting our burdens, and righting the wrong.
Find strength dear sinner, find it today
we aren’t alone even when in this fray
Though we are broken and tattered and torn
An eternal salvation and life is re-born!