Lord, I never asked for this.
I am such an ordinary man,
Trying to do my job and pay my bills
Taking pride in the work of my hands;
These calloused fingers, rough from the wood’s coarse grain
Scarred from the sharp-edged learning of my trade,
Patient to smooth and straighten, to make beauty.
I wanted what most normal men desire:
The wife I loved, her smile to light my days,
Small children with her eyes and my strong bones,
In time a son to learn my trade from me,
And Galilee was all the world I knew.
And then you came
Like the whirlwind that met with Job, tossing my life around,
So I no longer know what stands up straight:
The girl I love is bearing God’s own son,
And I walk humbled by this miracle,
Stumbling confused, nigh too afraid to touch,
Amazed, confounded, wondering who she is
And what my part is ..
How do I raise my God?
How do I keep the Lord almighty safe?
Of what stuff am I made to walk this path?
And must I teach the Saviour of mankind
The way to properly join two beams of wood,And ask his hands to hold the nails for me?