Have I prayed and wondered why
Must my body be so weak-
Must the pick touch every string?
Not three, but nine or twenty-seven times
Have I pled with you each night
So the pain would be long gone
Must a rose have every thorn?
Not three, but nine or twenty-seven times
Have I tried to tell myself
That in weakness, You have strength
Don't know how, can't see it yet
But in You I find my rest.
