Darkening clouds are gathering,
a cold wind whistles around.
My plans to go meandering
come crashing to the ground.
Things have conspired to defeat me,
Iím thwarted and turned from my way.
I wanted to follow my schedule,
my calendar notes for the day.
I long to just click my fingers,
to set everything to my course,
to be in control of what happens,
my great expectations enforce.
If I could decide every outcome
so life went the way that I chose,
things would be shiny and rosy.
Thatís surely the way that it goes.
With a click of my fingers the weather
would turn into sunshine or rain,
I could make every outcome a good one,
eliminate sorrow and pain.
Never Iíd face disappointment,
or failure, regret or remorse.
No storms on my lake of reflection,
never adjustment mid-course.
But the power isnít mine for the taking.
I am born to belong to the King,
to be shaken and stirred and unsettled,
until to His feet I will bring Ö
my soul and my body and spirit,
surrendering to His command,
accepting His rule and His choices,
the days of my life He has planned.
With one click of His fingers He formed me.
For His joy He allows me to be.
He made and sustains all creation.
He controls how it impacts on me.
If I fall on my knees and I worship,
If I trust His infallible grace,
Iíll be guided and led though lifeís changes,
Iíll be readied to see His dear face.
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