Becoming

Where am I supposed to turn to?
All my bridges done been burned through
and I'm caught here in the middle
My purpose is a riddle
So to calm me out like Ritalin
I'm leaning on these little sins
Seem insignificant but they're changing me in increments
The man that I'm becoming
So often wish I wasn't
What does it mean to be a son, a brother and a husband
And know just how to live right?
Be honourable at midnight
Do your duty, know your plan and lead others with foresight?
Can I be weak?
Can I let you see I'm vulnerable?
That I don't have the answers I'm not an oracle
I know it's horrible
Does it make you look away?
Or can you find the heart to stay?
Let's steal away and pray together for a minute
I'm asking for acceptance
I'm a work that is half-finished
And in order to be shaped I know at points I'll be diminished
For the character of Christ in this clay to be distinguished

This is my becoming
At times it's unbecoming
This is my becoming
At time it's unbecoming

Trying to make my mark on the world
Without it marking me
But pride will set me up for a fall
Just like an Autumn leaf
I'm trying to be deceased
Dead to the world so it could never rob my peace
And dead to the words of ones my pride would like to please
An audience of One
The one who died to call me, "Son"
The one who set off on the road and looked at me to bid me, "Come!"
That's the journey that my heart's on
That daily I embark on
That "Here am I, send me" would be my swan song
But Samsonite and Swanson,
Man so I often I've been way off
Manipulate like Madoff,
Eyes running wild on the street like kids with days off
Ask me what I'm made of
Am I just a bag of tricks?
Acting like I'm five or six
Crying to be picked?
Stomp my feet and throw my toys
Making sure you hear the noise
To show my displeasure
You're messing with my leisure!
Father God, you're judging the heart
Show me how life is measured

This is my becoming
At times it's unbecoming
This is my becoming
At time it's unbecoming

Keep it together
Show 'em that you're clever
Let 'em know the importance and grandeur of your endeavours
They'd better know you're busy
You're doing stuff that matters
You never get to sleep
Last week you had three hours
Of course you're humble
It ain't about the power
But when the teacher visits
You're too busy building towers
Busybody, you're too busy for the rabble
Build a city to the Lord
On the map they call it "Babble"
It's not me though
I'm holding to the credo
Surely I'm above reproach
Never incognito
Strive to do my duties
I'm doing what's expected
I'm paid up on my tax
What's the deal with this inspection?
I thought whatever's left was down to my discretion
Now you say I'm supposed to die
How's that different from oppression?
Just then I caught the Master's eye in my direction
He said, "Nothing that doesn't die can have a resurrection"

This is my becoming
At times it's unbecoming
This is my becoming
From the man I wish I wasn't
This is my becoming
I am the Beloved

Just then I caught the Master's eye in my direction
He said, "Nothing that doesn't die can have a resurrection"