Center me, Lord,
as I bob and weave,
thrust and parry.

If I just stop these motions of conflict,
I might find the war is already over.

Calm me, Lord,
as I hold onto hurts
and antique grudges.

If I put the past behind me and stay in today,
I might just find the present really is a gift.

Craft me, Lord,
as I haggle with You
to remain where I am.

If I put my life in Your Hands,
I might just find I’m becoming more
than I ever imagined I could be.