Came into the world with collapsed lungs
And a heart barely beating
My beginning could be the end
If I don’t respond to the treatments
The prognosis – it ain’t pretty
Doc’s preparing my mother for the worst
Sayin’ even if I make it to tomorrow
My future would still be uncertain
But just as the curtain closed
She knows something that they don’t know
A Great Physician with a different opinion
On how the story’s supposed to go
“Lord, if it’s his time, that’s fine
But if he lives, he won’t be mine…
He’ll be yours to shape and mold
Give him life and make him shine”
The curse of death was looming heavy
But He chose to remove it
Took a broken, feeble fetus
And He purposed to renew it
So when I get fed up
And want to let up
Thinking that I’ll never make it through this
I remember His past mercies
And how relentless His pursuit is
He makes all things good
And critics attribute it to “western privilege”
But the postman always rings twice
And only the Christ can deliver
Psalm 22:9-10, 51:5, Psalm 139:14; Matthew 6:13; Galatians 1:3-5
Soli Deo Gloria,
Shon
