The Altar - Nichole Nordeman

I’m at the end of myself

I just dropped out of the running

I don’t recall when I last pulled the shades and said

«Here comes the sun, here comes the new day»

Someone remind me again

That joy might show up on occasion

I’m sitting here with my hands on my head

And my eyes on the ground, wondering if I’ll be found by You

Will you make me new?

Will you take what’s left of me?

I guarantee that it won’t be a fair trade

Will you set me free from what’s keeping me afraid?

I know I’ve prayed it all before

But I’m back on the altar

I don’t believe what they say

About one foot in front of the other

If my life was a map

You’d see every last step

Just circling around

Still lost, never found by You

So will you make me new?

Will you take what’s left of me?

I guarantee that it won’t be a fair trade

Will you set me free from what’s keeping me afraid?

I know I’ve prayed it all before

But I’m back on the altar

Maybe last year I’d have made empty promises

Maybe last month I have tried to pull strings

But I don’t have one single chip left to bargain with

The only thing left is me needing You

To make me new

Will you take what’s left of me?

I guarantee that it won’t be a fair trade

Will you set me free from what’s keeping me afraid?

I know I’ve prayed it all before

But I’m back on the altar