It all seems like a dream…when I meet him and he tells me I have the potential.
When I see him in my dreams and desires and it all feels right,
It feels like a dream, a perfect, scary, beautiful dream.
One that makes me what to sit at his feet constantly and give everything up and run,
Run with him until the end of the world,
To the lost and broken…to the weary and the rich
But then it rests hard on my shoulders as I try to plan,
To scheme and organise
To put in place strategies of change,
To write bullet by bullet the plan that will change the world.
And I forget,
I forget that it is His, it is all His,
I have no place here, no place with the pain in my back, the stoop in my shoulders.
My place is at his feet,
At the feet I will knee before and kiss.
The feet that will guide me through the unfamiliar paths and into the light,
My place is to follow and believe.
Believe in the one that was sent.
The one who dreamed me up and breathed me into being,
My place is to follow and run with him until I am done,
Until he says it is time to go home.