I once had a wish to be big, bold, and strong,
But my own strength kept me weak all along.
For life is not gained by the things that I do.
It comes when I’m dying to what I call “you.”
The seed in the ground must be buried away.
It sleeps in the dark, hiding night from the day.
But give it some rain and a bright shining sky,
It rises to life, reaching up to God on high.
Jesus has shown me the path I must take,
To carry a cross for the Kingdom’s sake.
For dying to my “self” is the door to more—
To life that is richer than all I had before.
Each choice that I make is a step up the hill,
To follow God’s way, not to chase my own will.
And though it is hard, it’s the best thing to do—
To live in his glory, as one who is made new.
