So many worlds I live in
In some no room for me at all
In others I'm forgiven
Free to rest in being small
Take me to the home we're making
Where all is finally in its place
Inviting in that great belonging
Who meets us in each other's face
I'm caught inside a promise
Bigger than I'll ever understand
And I'm caught inside my wounds
Deeper than my own two hands can mend
But holy is the broken ground on which we stand
So let our soil be tilled by the Maker's hand
So many well-worn paths we travel
With aimless feet on dead-end days
Blind to every grace unraveled
Underneath our winding ways
But you are where I'm safe to stand
On the day my feet are sore
We find our footing hand in hand
Further always than before
Strength in need
Counselor in perplexity
Comforter in sorrow
Companion in joy
I'm caught inside a promise
And I'm caught inside my wounds
But holy is the broken
And I give it all to you
So let our soil be tilled
And our bellies filled
Let our hearts be healed by the Maker's hand