I am what I am

Not without effect: that's what your grace is,
While I wander here to there and place to places.
And I have this tender soul that craves you, you, Lord.
But this war waged in me is not fought with sword
But with prayer. What a wretched soul I am!
I tear my heart wholeheartedly from the "I Am."

And I fight you
            And I crave you
And I lose you
            And I have you

I spit on you
And I flirt with death

               And I revile you
               With every breath

But your love to me sinks deeper than my skin
As I open bleeding wounds and let you come in.
What a wretched soul I am! I don't do
What I would do. What I would not do, that I do.
And this has left me drained and weak. I long for
The freedom in these bones you up and died for.

When I beat you
And spit on you

                       Led you to death
                       And while you _hung there
                                              

Not even earthquakes, ripping curtains could convict me.
Mistakenly I lost sight of your vict'ry.
Oh no: I chose my path and took my stand.
Death knocks. What a wretched soul I am!

Hmmmmmmmmmm.............

Your grace to me was not without effect:
My everlasting mindset's not correct.
My nature lives contrary to my spirit.
You whisper "live" despite I will not hear it.

I can't fight you.
Can't control you.
      My spirit swells,
      Longs to extoll you.

Why come ye here,
Oh soul of mine?
      Do you not know, flesh?
      Have you not heard, bones?
The Lord, my savior, everlasting is.
Come to know for once just what his grace is.

Mercies new each morning fall, are drenching
My thirsty soul in love that's unrelenting.
Even I grow tired and weary, worn and weak.
What have I then but hope I wouldn't seek?
What a wretched soul I am! I know this,
Yet I wander here to there and place to places.

This war within my members' terms are met.
His grace to me was not without effect.