Made From Dust

Closer than breath is my God, Though I seek Him far from near. Though love for me He holds dear, I pine for things my heart does tear. His thoughts and acts are about me, Making my good His great desire. His word guides my heart to aspire To attain His goal before I retire. What else should I ask of my God, When in Christ He meets my care? He should grow me as wheat, not tare, Lest I at my calamity stare. By my strength no good comes, For Christ in me does His will. When on the cross He paid the bill, There He set me free from the mill. He's with me to guard and guide; Ensure I take my steps in His light. Before me, His way is bright; I need not stumble or grope in fright. What needless pain I bear up, Missing out on the rest Grace bestows! I'm a dungy dust that weakness mows, Not a dazzling diamond that in strength glows! © 2013