Fall Shorts

Promise your grip will stay

I tug, I pull, I complain

Every second finds me feeling incomplete

But with God all things are possible,

My hands sweat

Because I’m the king of the sport, of falling short,

Unreliable, will I deny you when it matters most?

Please don’t let me fall in love with this dying world

Sickness scrapes every minute and mold grows in dark corners

I see why this isn’t home

May I humble myself before you at all times

Especially in these last times

We learned nothing from the flood

And mock Noah until the rain comes

Dark clouds are everywhere

They say they don’t care

Souls serenaded by snares

May we come to you, Lord Jesus, before it’s too late and we fall short.

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