This fragile heart sometimes forgets
to beat.
This weary head can sometimes fail
to rise.
These broken hands take care of much
defeat.
These fleeting breaths end many
nights in cries.
This foreign face peers into
strangers’ sights.
Its ears are craving for familiar
rings.
Its skin so longs to feel connecting
flights.
Its eyes and mouth speak only alien
things.
But when by faith I fall before His
throne
And see my Master’s never-changing
gaze,
I gain all hope; I know I’m not
alone.
I know I’m loved; I joy to give Him
praise.
When on that day I reach my heav’nly home,
I’ll know the smallness of this earth I roam.