You are God.
You are good.
Be with me.
Let nothing separate,
no want distract
from the need--
insatiable anywhere
else.
Be with me.
I wish not to be
about You,
but with You--
connected
selected
resurrected
with the King.
I need to be
"in the room where it happened"
for the rest of time,
counted among Your own.
Each
bone and tendon,
aching for You,
groans.
Apart from You
I am nothing
"a chaff in the wind"
blown, burned,
forgotten.
Forget me
if it means communing
with You--
assurance.
Grafted in,
rooted in the
true vine.
Humbled
by each branch removed,
left behind,
creating a space for
me.
So many rooms
in Your house,
Lord--
places to splice.
Rearrange hearts,
great King,
turn mockery into
salvation--
SING!
Sing His praises
forever.
What's dead comes to life.
Forget this earthly
pleasure,
it offers nothing
but certain death,
everlasting
strife.
