Wax Anvil

Cold as an anvil, dark and alone;

Unforgiving, without mercy, a heart harder than a stone.

Then again, just like a candle – warmed & softened by the sun…

The crush of confrontation will quickly make me come undone.

Somewhere in between, I’ve become lukewarm & wrecked with doubt.

Deep in compromise’s chasm, I just want to spit me out.

So, who do I turn to now, when I can’t even trust myself?

Whether I rise or fall, it seems like there’s no one else

Who’ll brave this stormy sea and say a prayer for me.

A tower built on contradiction with a cornerstone of sand,

I have made my brother stumble; yet I’m not certain how to stand

(On my own) I’ve coddled consternation and I’ve been paralyzed by fear;

Always fighting for acceptance – doesn’t anybody hear?

So, who do I turn to now, when I can’t even help myself?

Whether I rise or fall, it seems like there’s no one else

Who’ll brave this stormy sea and say a prayer for me.

But, You’ve been knocking on the door of my life.

Waiting for me to let You in.

You promise to refine me; to love & redefine me

And give me the vision to see what You want me to be…

It’s You who I turn to now; I cannot survive by myself.

Whether I rise or fall, it’s just You and no one else

Who calms this stormy sea and saves a place for me.

Holy Garden

I was walking through the woods with my little girl

When we came upon a clearing of the trees.

And, there, rising gently, through the bramble & the briar,

Stood a klatch of wild flowers swaying in the breeze.

That little girl stepped careful not to harm a single flower.

She stepped silently, as if to beg her pardon.

Then she said to me, in the fragrant air, these words I can’t forget…

She said, “Daddy, this must be a Holy Garden.”

Now, I can’t be sure why she chose to express herself this way;

But her wonder was so innocent and true.

She recognized something that at first I couldn’t see;

Then her simple, honest words hit home and forever changed my view.

Look at how I’ve looked at this world – through my skeptical, cynical eyes.

To me, nothing has face value anymore; yet here is this child so wise.

As I walk through this world I hope that I might see the truth

So that my heart will cease to harden.

It’s so easy to get tangled in the bramble & the briar

And not see the sun there shining in the garden.

I think about the man, long ago who knew beyond the thicket was a garden…

You know He prayed for us all night long in a clearing of the trees.

The time had come for Him to earn our pardon.

He would wear a thorny crown made from the bramble & the briar…

Yet, His prayers were said for us; His fears were felt for us…

All His years were lived for us – and

He shed our tears, there, in that Holy Garden.

Listen/Lyrics

Songbook Lyrics:

“...You’ve been knocking on the door of my life. Waiting for me

to let You in.”

Listen to a sample

Wax Anvil: MP3

“...To me, nothing has face value anymore; yet here is this child

so wise.”

Listen to a sample

Holy Garden: MP3