O God, if You're so good to me down here,
what merit will be left for me up there?
You must confess, O Lord, You soothe my fear,
You even count and care for every hair.
You lend more love than ever I deserve,
You hear and answer every prayer I send,
You pitch to me and never throw a curve,
You leave me love and laughter without end.
When I'm in church, You can't help but inspire,
and when I teach, You make sure I am taught.
When have You not fulfilled my blithe desire?
When have You not helped me when I have fought?
So, Lord, how much reward is left to be,
when all Your blood’s already flooded me?
-- by Pete Voelz 9/09
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