I choose a mate to fill the space
That God was meant to fill
And fall in lust and call it grace
Surrendering my will
But all the while I dig in deep
And rarely think it odd
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
My mate’s a lousy god!
We find ourselves in troubled lands
I see a recurring theme
The chord of marriage has three strands
Just one of them, Supreme
The scales fall down from my own eyes
Self-centeredness I see
O God in heaven hear my cries
The lousy god is me!
I ponder on Your Word until
That still small voice reminds me
I humbly bow, Lord, to Your will
For only You define me.
Written: May 5, 2014


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