I know what I want, O Lord, my God,
And it is right, and pure, and good;
And yet, I feel a tug within
To give it up; obey I would.
The struggle is, thus far, intense—
Why must I give up my dreams?
I want Your will, Your way, Your time;
This is Your way? So strange, it seems!
Why must that I treasure most
Thus be given, dreams must die?
Why must cherished hopes be broken,
Dashed, and crushed; why, Lord, why?
Dreams must die; like grains of corn
Must be buried, fruit to bear,
Even so, my will must die;
My life I give—I'm in Your care.
When Your plan at last is shown
More beautiful, I know, 'twill be
Than all the castles, bright and fair,
I build upon this sand I see.
And so, 'til then, I walk by faith,
Trusting wholly in Your way,
Leaning ever on Your arm,
Finding strength for each new day.