How insulting to You, precious Lord, I have been.
My efforts are spent seeking to please merely men.
Although, they're as imperfect and lowly as I,
Yet, I’ve held their unworthy opinions too high.
When my attention should be set firmly on You,
Who appreciates all that I am and I do.
It wavers when I look into judgmental eyes
And fear of mistakes creates Your presence’ disguise.
Consuming frustration! I will never be free,
If I try to determine what they think and see.
Genuine satisfaction can only be found
After losing myself in a worship unbound.
My heart’s open to You but to man it is sealed.
Only there, my perfection through Christ is revealed.