Saturday, 27 August 2011

you're not done with me yet



Spanish blood in my veins, family pride in my head.
Brought up by Catholic nuns, with godly values bred.
Had many friends sincere, true and honestly loving
The pedestal whereupon I stood kept me ever trusting.

I saw myself with a respectable position in society.
Worked hard for it and took pride in my own propriety.
I imagined my colleagues holding me in high esteem
A good distance between the scum and the cream.

I found You and in the process fell off my lofty perch.
Lost my job and some friends from the SDA church.
You have to be born again - this in the Bible I did see,
But never did I expect how painful the rebirth would be.

Now I’m between raging volcano and crashing surf,
Chopped up by scathing words well within my turf.
Thrashed and bruised by a lashing tongue fed by lies
Only your Spirit took hold of my anger on the rise.

You know my heart and the tears that I have cried.
I know you want me pure like gold in the fire tried.
Keep me humble oh Lord and help me not to fret
Jesus, I know you’re not done with me yet.


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