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Build me with Your woven Words
Of a truth, of assurance, of hope, of confidence.
Build me and I am destroyed --
Let my fortified walls collapse
Let the Throne be Yours
Let the aesthetic boast Your sovereignty
As I become dignified
By Your coming glory.

Build me again, for now, I refuse not
Build me now w/ Your own battlement
May I not hide anymore
And so I welcome You as I open the gate
Let me enter unto Your rest.

Let me not be ashamed of my Designer --
A Jewish Carpenter who left the Throne of Heaven.
There's no god greater than you
Even Zeus can hold no power
No other Greek gods can sustain You.
Legends and historic beings may increase in numbers
But You alone, the Beholder of everything --
The Beholder of my being.

I'm not a skyscraper
The curtain wall was a display of Your affection
The facade was Your intricate details
It was Your design -- from inside out.

It's never been a theory, but of truth
Of how "Form follows Function" has fed my soul --
Dying inside without purpose
But there, I found my worth
In the Cross, You defeated death
It has no power, it has no pride.

I was told w/ pages of history
Marked with blots of the blood
Of those who later on contributed
To the land's freedom and victory.
But all those flags of advancement & uttered security,
They're all fair black in the background of mystery.

I can see myself waving another flag in white
As I wait for the coming of the Giver of Life
I can wait til forever has come to pass
Until the only Hero, I ever saluted will face me at last.

I can easily be broken or damaged --
It seems I am fragile
And so I let Your hands mold me
I let Your love fills me
Complete me, finish me.

I am still in the process,
"It is finished," I heard Your voice
The melody of pain yet gain in the resurrection
Finished -- but I am still in the process
I am still a BUILDING to be built
And I can only boast of one thing:
That You are my BUILDER.