Friday, March 6, 2009

Child of the King.



Mom told me Jesus died for me and that He’s back in heaven
She says He’ll always hold my hand now that I’ve been forgiven
I said the sinner’s prayer you see. I know I needed that
But how can Jesus hold my hand when heaven’s where He’s at?

If You can reach me with Your hand Your arms must be so long
They could wrap around me many times then I’m safe where I belong.
It’s really so confusing, and another thing bothers me
I know I still sin sometimes, What a mess I can be!

I know how much You love me, because You died for me
And I love You Lord Jesus and one day You will see
That I’ve grown up into a man that can do anything
And when I have a family I’ll tell them of my King

I want You to promise me they’ll belong to You
am so proud to be Your child, there’s nothing I won’t do
And with Your help, Lord Jesus right by Your side I’ll stick
Dad gave me Your instruction book, The Bible, Wow it’s thick.

I’ll never read through all of it what with homework too I’m set
Mom says to read a little at a time so I’ll be a student yet.
So here I am Your new recruit, what should I do today?
I’d best get dressed and eat breakfast; it’s just another school day.

W.B. March 2009

2 comments:

Marja said...

Sweet Wyn! Is that inspired by one of your grandchildren?

wyn said...

No,sorry , it's all in my childlike brain.
St Paul would despair of me . I think like a child and act like one too sometimes!
Blessings,
Wyn