I’m having a pity party -
Just me, myself, and I.
We’ll rehash all the hurts and pains,
Each punctuated by “Why?”
What, Lord? Are you invited?
Did my invitations include Your name?
No, Lord, I didn’t include You;
The party wouldn’t be the same.
For if I took just one look
At the nail prints in Your hands,
I’d be reminded of what You endured
And forget my party plans.
And then I’d look into Your loving eyes
And know that You suffered for me.
I’d know that it’s Your power I need –
Not pity – to set me free.
On second thought, Lord,
Would you come in and take a chair?
Forgive me of my selfish plans,
And lift me from the pit of care.
I’ll get out my very best cup, Lord,
And ask You to fill it to overflow -
With Your power, Your Spirit, Your grace -
Then I’ll drink and in Your strength go.
Fill my cup, Lord, I lift it up, Lord . . .
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