CHRIST JESUS BE MY MASTER
Christ Jesus be my master, the ruler of my heart.
Who rules the sun in steady course will steady to my heart.
Though grief rain down upon me and hint of no relief,
who brings the rain to but a drop will soften, too, my grief.
My prayer seems more unanswered the more I strive to pray,
and darker looms the restless night the more I long for day.
But Christ will not forsake me who learned well when he cried,
“Pray Father, please remove this cup.” Some prayers are best denied.
I want my own pain lifted and pray my suffer’ing cease,
and look to Christ to offer aid and grant me quick release.
But his prayer was more humble. He said, “Thy will be done.”
The Father’s will became his cup to die a loving son.
A tear upon my pillow in contrast surely pales
to all the blood that Christ had shed, his hands pierced through with nails.
For Christ to gain all power, he suffered thus at length.
So, I’ll abide my mote of pain to gain a jot of strength.
Christ hallows grief with mercy, who hallowed love with grief
to season faith within the heart like autumn in a leaf.
I’ll bear the heat of summer until a time has passed,
for there’s a gold in my green faith will surface at the last.
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