House on the Rock

My heart sings a melody but last week it was stone Today it's a chorus where it once sat alone For so long I was grouchy, embittered by pride I couldn't find joy no matter how hard I tried Jesus felt far my faith felt abandoned but He took my hand, said I won't leave you stranded Perhaps my own blinders were blocking my view- God, forgive my too-small scope of you! The bigger you became, so the fuller my heart and the smaller the gap I felt keep us apart You must become greater, I must become less I've lived out the opposite, Lord, this I confess How much fuller and grander this whole world could be with a lot more of you and a lot less of me

I'm a wanderer, God, I feel it my heart yearns to run away But you take one gentle glance at me and summon that I stay So often I convince myself that sin will satisfy but you take your child by the arms - you walk with me side by side You do not hate me, never God, but you do hate sin which is why you redirect with loving discipline. I think, "God, you must hate me so!" You tell me that's not true. "I'll never hate you, child, but I hate what's hurting you. Your sin may seem enticing for a brief, deceitful minute but before long, you're empty and convinced you'll be stuck in it. My heart for you, my precious child, can't bear to leave you lost - which is why my arms don't stiff-arm sinners, but stretch to pay sin's cost. I'll never let the pit of sin become your helpless home. So my arms will redirect you every single time you roam."