…what could I bring
to the throne of a KING?
What could I give except my all?
I could give Him a song, but how do I sing?…
And even my song has a hollow ring;
a hollow ring, without the Creator, the Creator of all things.
I could give him my life— (but what good is that?)
It seems so empty,
one dimensional…
so flat.
And, how do I live but by the breath of His Breath,
how do I live but by the gift of His death?
I am but dust.
He is Divine.
What good is this life, this life of mine?
I can minister to Him in word and in deed,
yet even the grass knows the Everlasting Creed.
The knowledge in my heart; so wise, so rare,
is known to the beasts of the field and the birds of the air.
What good is my wisdom,
my life,
my song…
of course to give them would not be wrong…
however;
all that I have was given to me.
All I can do is praise him:
Praise HIM eternally.
jth 10/1987
Psalm 103:14
He remembers that we are dust.