To be held,
Oh, God,
By Her,
Is to be home.
The air is sweeter,
The lights are brighter,
And the world outside seems full of potential.
When she holds me,
Oh Lord,
The music comes from the Heavens,
They sing out,
“Allelujah, allelujah,”
And my heart leaps in my chest,
Because in Her embrace,
War is far,
Hate is fiction,
And I am deserving of love.
To be in,
Oh, God,
Your Church,
Is to be home.