I thought I had it all...
My life, my look, my time.
But as my life unfolded,
The words did not all rhyme.
It seemed my tears were lost,
Like raindrops in a stream.
The future looked uncertain,
I did not dare to dream.
I tried to find the cause,
Why is the way unclear?
Is life a measure only,
What will define a year?
I wished for peaceful rest,
But found that silence fled.
For ruin had raised its voice,
And hope seemed all but dead.
I cannot still go onward,
Without a place of rest.
I must arrest this progress!
This way is not the best!
The Best? Do I deserve?
How can I trust this Voice?
But softly now I hear it;
“Now make Me your choice”
Must I not earn this prize?
My Savior’s words are true;
“You can only give your all;
For I have ransomed you.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem