The Gift

There’s a story behind the words below. One morning while downloading solo guitar music, I happened upon the hymn “O My Father”, played beautifully by guitarist Ryan Tilby. The melody was sweet and peaceful, and I played it on repeat more than I’m willing to admit. (Ok, more than seventy times.) Wanting to do more than hum along, I decided to search for the lyrics so I could sing along in praise. As it turns out the song is a Mormon hymn and some of the lyrics are in contradiction to my Christian faith. So I continued to hum.

Weeks later I was slicing strawberries in my kitchen, the hymn playing in the background. Words began spilling into my mind. I quickly wiped my hands, wrote them down and restarted the song. Back to the berries. More words. Stop, write, rewind. Back to the berries. Repeat again and again. Tears blurred my eyes. In the end, words fit the song perfectly for Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

I do not write songs. And I do not write poetry. But that day as I read the finished words, I realized this song was my story. The gift that I wanted to sing to my God, became His gift to me as the Holy Spirit spoke to my heart. Funny how that works:)                                                                              

O loving Father, Creator and King

Your wonders surround me,  Your glories they sing. 

My heart wants to join in but I am held back.

My sin keeps me silent, my soul is but black.

My Father says, “Child, My heart yearns for you.

My love’s for the taking, I’ll carry you through.

I gave you my Son to make your heart clean,

No longer apart, child, come to me.” 

O, my sweet, sweet Jesus purest of love,

You came to us bringing Your Father’s deep love.

You open your arms and with mercy and grace,

Invite me, “Come.” I leave my disgrace. 

I touch your hand and I am made clean.

I lift my eyes and Your face I see.

A rushing of tears, a blanket of peace.

Softly You call, “Child, come to me.”

O Holy Spirit breathe in me fire

That makes my heart one with His desire.

Speak to my soul now, words He would say

And make my heart burn for His will, I pray.

O move my heart to His perfect love.

Fill me overflowing, mercies pour from above.

Make me His hands, make me His feet.

Through me He pleads, “Child, come to Me.”

Lord, make me Your hands.

Lord, make me Your feet.

Plead through me,

“Child, child, come to Me.”









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