He counts my breaths, the beating of my heart,
He starts at birth and ends His count at death,
He’s never far, for never do we part.
Christ said once that my hairs all have a number,
no doubt my DNA, each gene, each cell,
while my eyes sleep, God’s eye will never slumber,
and of each thought of mine, God’s tongue can tell.
From God--if I should want--I cannot hide,
why should I? I’m the apple of His eye,
besides my self, He knows my soul inside,
He willed my life, He wills when I should die.
You, Lord, are Spirit, with no parts to count,
Your love for me--who fathoms the amount?
-- by Pete Voelz 4/3/12
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