Lord, you vowed that when I woke tomorrow

I would see amazing things unfold,

Yet my eyes are misted up with sorrow

And the sights I see are dark and cold.

Lord, you said that my imagination,

Couldn’t contemplate what was to be,

That my wildest dreams could never fashion

All your spirit had in store for me.

Where are all those promises so precious?

Where’s the Father’s strong protective hand?

Where’s the ever-present love of Jesus?

Where’s the grace in which I hoped to stand?

Where’s the Lord who said he’d never leave me?

Where’s the Spirit that he said he’d send?

Where’s the freedom that he said he’d give me?

Where’s the God who said he’d be my friend?

Precious child I’m standing right beside you,

And in love I’m holding out my hand.

There are things your spirit must attend to

If in grace and power you want to stand.

I can dry your bitter tears of sorrow,

In your life my hopes and dreams display

But if you would see great things tomorrow,

You must consecrate yourself today.

(AB)