Anglican
Member
- Joined
- Nov 2, 2009
- Messages
- 358
It's a pleasure, it's a blast
To be beneath His will, at last
Knowing that I've shrunk some more
Not so me, mine, not so sore
It's a great relief to hand
Over all my contraband
Leaving it all on the altar
Like a horse out of it's halter
Free to glide on eagles wings
Trust His currents, nothing clings
Look to Him and follow near
His direction, loud and clear
Shows me where I need to go
Where I'll gain the strength to grow
All the muscles that I'll need
For His creation to succeed.
To be beneath His will, at last
Knowing that I've shrunk some more
Not so me, mine, not so sore
It's a great relief to hand
Over all my contraband
Leaving it all on the altar
Like a horse out of it's halter
Free to glide on eagles wings
Trust His currents, nothing clings
Look to Him and follow near
His direction, loud and clear
Shows me where I need to go
Where I'll gain the strength to grow
All the muscles that I'll need
For His creation to succeed.