Removing my shoes, I step up to the entrance.
I close my eyes, my perception to enhance.
I want to feel that magical touch,
The hand of Jesus, whose love is enough.
Each step I take, I take with care,
I'm trying to see, to feel if He's there.
I'm trying too hard, I stop and stare,
At the floor beneath, my feet, bare.
I silently beg for a walk with Christ,
To know He's there, my path, He'll light.
My hands stretch down, facing the floor,
I feel the warm touch of the One I adore.
He's got my hand, and He's leading me through,
Healing my wounds and making me new.
We walk and talk, I never want to leave,
The presence of this God, I can finally see,
There's more to this faith than things taught in churches.

Nearing the exit, His warmth starts to fade.
I ask Him to stay, a confession I've made.
"I haven't put you first! I'm not a good daughter!"
"You're mine, and I love you. I am your Heavenly Father."
I fall to the ground, and the warmth evaporated.
His hand was gone, had He departed?

A brush on my shoulder tells me He's with me.
This maze I'm in is something amazing.
My walk in the Labyrinth was one to remember,
My Lord, God, and Savior, with whom I have favor.