Things

Things upon the mantle
Things on every shelf
Things that others gave me
Things I gave myself
Thing I've stored in boxes
That don't mean much anymore
Old magazines and memories
Behind the attic door, things

Things on hooks and hangers
Things on ropes and rings
Things I guard that blind me to
The pettiness of things
Am I like the rich young ruler
Ruled by all I own
If Jesus came and asked me
Could I leave them all alone

Oh, Lord, I look to heaven
Beyond the vеil of time
To gain eternal insight
That nothing's rеally mine
And to only ask for daily bread
And all contentment brings
To find freedom as Your servant
In the midst of all these things

For discarded in the junkyards
Rusting in the rain
Lie things that took the finest years
Of lifetimes to obtain
And whistling through these tombstones
The hollow breezes sing
A song of dreams surrendered to
The tyranny of things