Rest

I am a child, alone and afraid
Of worries and woes that around me are laid.
I cry to the heavens, "Oh, why should I bother?"
But comfort comes quick when I'm touched by the Father.

I am a traveller, wearied and worn,
Trapped on a path lined with hatred and scorn.
Pleading for help, as despair starts to smother
But help comes at last in the arms of my Mother.

I am a liar, a scoundrel, a thief.
Ensared by my sin, and a slave to my grief.
Written off by my friends and my foes as a loss,
But salvation is mine by the blood on the cross.

I am at rest, full of hope, full of peace.
He wanted my burden; I wanted release.
Surrounded by love, by joy I'm enticed.
Wrapped up in the arms of my saviour, the Christ.