Reformation

I want to relive that time I was young,
  that time I was silly, that time I was loved.
If I could look back on the day I became,
  the day I grew older, the day I grew "sane",
I think I could listen to hear what He said,
  to hear Him pursue me, to hear him suggest
That I be a beggar-prince, child of the King,
  child of the Servant, a child redeemed.
And how I would love Him!  And how He would shine!
  And how I would marvel at glory divine!

Sadly I've stumbled and built up a throne
  where I alone sit, making my glories known.
All who will listen to what I might say
  can be my "companion", and I'll give them "grace".
But all who defy me and stand in my way
  are tools of the devil, and against them I pray!
For this is my story, and this is my song,
  praising my cravings all the day long.

But gently He woos me and whispers my name
  with tones like a lover and motherly grace,
He calls me his child, He calls me his bride,
  He draws me to His throne to sit at His side.

He shows me the kingdom He plants in my heart,
  He calls me to water it, feed it, and start
To think like a gardener tending a seed,
  watching it grow and rooting out weeds.
With love like a father, He shows me His ways.
  He wants me to join Him as my act of praise.
And, just like He planted His seed in my garden,
  He calls me to sowing, lest my soil become hardened.

Nothing I'd sow could be for my own gain,
  It goes to my Father; it was His anyways.
And all that I'll need is provided by faith
  when all that I want is to give away grace.
It's like I'm a child again, looking to Dad
  and wanting to be like Him, making Him glad.