Sorrow tears at my heart, Lord, rips it open.

I dreamt, but now the dream is in tatters at my feet,

And is sodden with my sobbing.

It wasn’t meant to work out this way,

For people to act the way they did,

For the end result to be differing to what I’d planned.

 

Yet I have learned to see

That even dreams must be lightly held.

Like gossamer, which the wind can blow away.

Even what I thought were God-given dreams.

Help me to stop trying to control things,

To trust that you will make everything beautiful in its time,

Resurrected without me getting in the way.