Sunday Morning, February 12th

The light crept in through the sight of the curtain.
I wanted to stay, I wanted to close my eyes.
But the cold floor met my feet,
and the house settles as I made plans to leave.
Staring out through the single pane,
I traded my clothes for the ones staying for outside.
The soft rain spotted the sidewalk,
and promised in the sky to fight back the waiting sun.
While the dark green grass cut fresh,
by an old friend still waiting.
The doors locked from the inside
open as they always have before.

What type of hurts, the outdoors burst into a soft humble light.
It let's me know everything's alright.

(I asked the Lord God that I might see His face)
And it's the first time I thank You.
(What will wash away my sin?)
(I want nothing to see the grace in His face.)
(Nothing but the blood of Jesus)
(Jesus taught us to pray and He, I trust, will answer prayer)
And it's the first time I praise You.
(All the beautiful people... It's all real...)
(...If you would just ask me...)
(Take me out to the ball game)
(You see a faded sign on the side of the road that says...)
And it's the first time I thank You.
(Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are...)
(Up above the world so high...)
And it's the first time I praise You.

You make the ordinary so extraordinary.
You make the ordinary so extraordinary.
You make the ordinary so extraordinary.
You make the ordinary so extraordinary.
You make the ordinary so extraordinary.
You make the ordinary so extraordinary.