God speaks to me through the wind in the trees
But speaks to me most when I'm down on my knees
His mercy surrounds me; I'm bathed in His grace
Though I know I'm not even worthy to gaze on His face
How many times have I turned my back or His following I've denied?
If I told you I've always walked the narrow road~ it means I have lied
But his body was broken for me, so that my soul could be bathed
He was beaten, spat on, laughed at, then hung, all so that I could be saved!
Should we ever take that lightly or abuse what He did on that cross?
No... but how could we appreciate the peaks if we knew not what it was to be lost?
Even though, now I'm a man, I still know what it means to be a child
I fall short every day, but His blood allowed me to be reconciled!
Careful never to cast stones for I know I find myself in a clear, glass house
That's why I try to listen to Him speaking to me, staying quiet like a church mouse
How does he still speak to me when I treat the King of Kings like He's just a bum?
When the devil says, 'Who wants some candy?' and I yell out please give me some!
Every day the Lord's mercies are new & I am cloaked in radiant white
Every day I try to run from the darkness but every day is one hell of a fight!
Copyright John Mark Brooks
Sunday June 6, 2010
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