Management to Mystery

I know not what's to come,
or exactly how it's to be played.
The details, should I ponder them,
with energies all my days.

Will we be taken away, or
will You return to stay.
Will this all pass away then
something new put in its place.

Do I need to manage,
to understand what's next.
To know its meaning,
so I can take my rest.

Or, is there something different,
something silly that seems bizarre.
Something that make no sense,
no sense of it at all.

Here's an ideal, something off the wall,
simple childlike trust in You
In You to manage it all.

Now it's a mystery, a mystery to me.
What's next Papa, I will shout,
with enthusiasm and an eagerness,
simple no doubt.

No worries about what's coming.
Not a care in the world.
Cause, I can see only my Savior,
the rest is a just blur.

So from management to mystery.
This is the way I'll move.

Richard.

To my Mom.

What could a son say to his mother,
who bore him, raised him, and tried her best.

What could a son say to his mother,
who was always there and would never turn away.

What could a son say to his mother,
who waited patiently as he tried so desperately to find his way.

What could a son say, what could a son say.
I love you, I'll miss you, until we meet again.

When in Christ Jesus we are reunited with all our family and friends.
I love you mom, I always have, nothing can take that away.

What could a son say, what could a son say.
I love you, I love you, I know you're in a much better place.

Have fun with Grandma and Grandpa.
Don't argue with Peter at the gate.

What could a son say, what could a son say.
I Love you, I love you, you've always been Great.

Richard.

Standing Fast

I stand fast in Your loyal love,
even as my flesh tries to deceive me,
I turn my thoughts to You and You alone.

What can harm me, really harm my position.
Not this temporal life in this evil flesh,
if I fall into temptation, and succumb to your best.

Grace is greater, Love is greater, You are greater.
I rest in You, as the world whizzes by,
as the evil one throws a tempting prize.

It's not in them my heart longs after,
it's not in them my panting waits,
its not in them where my eternity awaits.

O' no, fallen world you have not won.
the battle has been fought, the Son has won.
It's You O' Lord where I rest, it's You my Lord
where I stand fast.

Richard.