missions

Make me a tool befitting of your hand, teach me where to go, teach me where to stand.

Sharpen and maintain me no matter the cost, I know to whom I belong, no longer am I lost.

Mold me, break me, make me anew, no matter the price, my trust in you.

Carve out whats rotten, prune this branch, wherever you’ll use me I’ll heed your command.

Not sure what I’ll be when you finish your mold, but I know I’ll be yours so I’ll watch it unfold.

To become a tool befitting of God my King, I must be fully reforged though the fire may sting.

Forged by fire unrelenting and righteous, here I have found a love that is priceless.

Yet a price was paid, beyond all measure, through Christ I’m remade, a tool that He treasures.

I can never earn this even if relentless, yet I will forever try, until my praise is endless.

Fervently I come to sing all praise, to glorify the father with the rest of my days.

My days may be numbered, but I need not count, so long as I spend them praising thy fount.

You have overflowed mercy upon this wrech; you have sought me when from your presence I fled.

You seek me never ceasing, when I am nothing, just one lost sheep, still you say your love is mine to keep.

So I set you here my firm foundation, a path well laid so I would seek your nations.

You first sought me when it didn’t make sense, so I will go seeking the earth no matter how immense.

Make me a servant, don’t allow me to retreat, I heed this call, I move quickly my feet.

Your commission is clear though my means are few, I know you’ll provide as you always do.

Tales of Dylan