In the womb, he knew me.
In the flesh he nourished me.
Those footprints you see are not mine,
he carries me.
If I hunger he feeds me.
If I thirst he gives me the water
of life.
If I tremble in the dark,
he is my light.
If I seek knowledge,
he is the book, he turns the
page, that I might have all I need.
If I cry out at night from loneliness,
he holds me close and comforts me.
My time of youth has passed me,
but at my age, if I stumble he catches me,
lest I should fall.
I am the Lords and the Lord is mine.
He whispers words in my ear.
Though my hand trembles,
he guides my pen to write.
For God has whispered in my ear,
even in the early hour before dawn.
He whispers that his eye is
on his flock.
His staff is in hand, which I may lean on.
Seek ye, the face of God, for he is
waiting.