The sum of tears that roll down my cheek,
Few words that are far too painful to speak,
When I can’t lift my arms because I am weak.
A grief-stricken heart that is now left hollow,
For great trouble has come and robbed it with sorrow,
When the pain in my loins runs deep to the marrow.
Betrayed, neglected, wounded, and left for dead,
Restless nights are all I know when I lay to rest my head,
When I am too distracted to recall any words You’ve said.
Lord, I am ashamed, empty-handed, nothing to bring,
But all of this and the little bit of sanity to which I cling,
Desperately, oh, how I need thee. Father, please take this offering.