Why do I have to make complex
The simple things in life.
Even that which is made for joy
I fill with my own strife.
Indeed, that does make sense.
I tend to see an open gate
And focus on the fence.
The bloom becomes the fruit
Without any input from me.
I have no horn to toot.
The Lord has put His plan in place
And life follows His plan.
Though I want to add my two cents,
I don’t think that I can.
Is I’m not in control.
I also learned the One who is,
Still loves my rebel soul.
Yet, with His plan in place,
Someday I’ll bear fruit He can use,
But only through His grace.
For everything there is a season, and a time for every
matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and
a time to pluck up what is planted;
For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this
is not your own doing; it is the gift of God


No comments:
Post a Comment