Thy will be done—
Four little words,
Mighty in the divine fiat
To tumble mountains,
Overthrow kingdoms;
Open prison bars,
Shut lions’ mouths;
Strengthen Gethsemanes,
Cheat death of its prey.
Mere syllables—
As You wish,
A verbal curtsy—
To unleash the Lion of Judah
Into the jungle of my circumstances.
Only,
On close inspection,
Wasn’t the back door of His cage
Open all along?
Yet in meekness
The Lion waits,
Until I bid Him
Do His bidding.
Thy will be done—
The noblest petition,
Choosing His choice;
The one prayer
Never refused,
Always heard,
Had for the asking.
