I used to think of myself as forsaken,
Then Jesus called me His own.
My every decision seemed doomed or mistaken,
Trying out my wings alone.
Then He came and I changed some, for better or worse,
But my flesh never gave up the fight.
I make a sow's ear out of every silk purse,
As I look to the wrong from the right.
I hear the beginning of wisdom is fear
Of The Lord and His mighty conviction.
I mostly feel angry, or my eyes fill with tears,
At my life's unresolved contradictions.
When I see His face, will I fall in disgrace,
Or throw my soul over the edge on His mercy?
I'd like to be strong, but I'm weak and I'm wrong,
And I feel like I'm only rehearsing.
So, what's the deal, all these years, He's more real
Than all my vain imaginations.
I cry 'Don't forsake me, Your answer might break me,
Jesus, make my life Your own creation.'
Jesus, make my life Your own creation.
This gift is too much for my choices.
I'm awakening to a rude revelation,
That I listen to all the wrong voices!