The works of your hands surround me, O LORD;
your signature is etched upon creation.
The sky and the sun,
the trees heavy with plums,
the birds with their feathers,
even this sofa, stitched in leather—
all together sing your name.
Yet I confess:
my soul falls silent outside their choir.
Forgive me, O LORD.
I look at my feet, aglow—
lit by the lamp of your word—
and feel unworthy of the road ahead:
overcome by flaws,
stumbling in silence,
uncertain.
Though I shine,
I envy those who glow in other hues;
I envy those who wander the dark
light-hearted and loud with laughter.
My soul is weary—
spent from forcing its own light,
striving, straining,
still unsatisfied with who I am.
You have searched my heart
and mapped its shadows.
You knew I would stray;
you know every hidden sin.
Yet still you chose me—
loved before foundations were laid,
drawn near through your Son.
Jesus, in you I have everything:
a co-heir of heaven,
lavished with every spiritual blessing.
Teach me to walk your ways;
lead me deeper into the Father’s heart.
Your face, O LORD, we seek.
Let us behold your beauty
and drink the fullness of joy at your right hand.
View my life through heaven’s eyes—
for your eye is on the sparrow,
and I know you watch over me.
And you smile.