I hear the whisper, lay it down
– to count the cost and follow hard
I think about the sacrifice
not Yours, but mine, and raise my guard
sometimes it seems too much to give,
these treasures grasped with stubborn hands
trinkets though they may just be
I doubt Your right to make demands
I want to say, then promise me
– to make my will of highest aim
that hurt and loss won’t be my end
nor dreams abandoned for Your fame
I know You work all things for good
but, still, You promise troubles, too
my gaze that’s set on self and now
I struggle to lift up to You
for though I claim to know Your gift
is worth more than my very life
it’s what I see that drives my heart
and makes me shrink from any strife
I make it all about my life
my heart, my wants, my lessons learned
when, really, my life’s not my own
and grace and love are not deserved
these gifts You give, though free and many
pour only from Your kindness deep
if life undone be to Your glory
then there I should, in gladness, sleep
for though You bless, and though You comfort,
and though each breath proves mercy true
still, I was made to serve You only
may all of me be all for You.