looking back at days in the past, i laid broken and pouting
not understanding my lot, in fact refusing to try
i kept bitterness and self pity around my wrists
i called my life a desert, eternally dry

i resented my God, my king, my creator
his love was a joke, his sacrifice a jest
i ignored my surroundings, gleaming in darkness
i focused instead on what i thought was best

i wanted a soulmate, a mad love affair
i desperately pushed, one after another, into my mold
my cycle of cries was, "here, now, this one!"
i turned from my God when my life remained cold



looking back at days in the past, i laid broken and pouting
my human eyes couldn't see, they wouldn't look up ahead,
let me press fast forward, oh let me skip to the end
but He wrote the book, my chapter He'd read

He heard my plea, and carefully wrote
He began to teach me, day after day, His ink is gold, pure and true
the best stories are the ones that take us the furthest
He meticulously etched, an enchanting vision he drew

i'm still chapters behind, who knows how long this book is?
but my pieces aren't broken, i'm actually quite whole
my Savior is with me, His love, my hope
this peace is surreal, an anthem for my soul.