Tomorrow is Thursday, I leave on Friday
I have so much to do but never get enough done
There are times I feel Your impatience
Urging me to write, meditate, read
Other times I feel You slowing me down
Wanting me to breathe
Stop and enjoy something or someone
Why do You love me?
How do You love me like this?
I asked these things in the beginning
I'll stop when I get an answer
Even as I have no words for Why I love You
I don't know what opened my heart
And I can't stop it from pouring out
While my to-do list gets even longer
I want to give You more
Time is such a frustrating thing
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