The Parable of the Tenants
I have builded the fortress of self
Around and around and around,
And there is a fortified place
Where all Your good giving is found.
In secret I count out my wealth
In this hiddenmost treasury
And there, in that dark gloating place,
I claim it as all part of me.
But say You, my God, should call claim
And ask Your investment’s return,
Then how should I lay it all down,
From my dragon-ed ego’s dark yearn?
I fluster, I flap, disengage,
Resenting to pay this small price.
My eyes on my store, blind to all
The glorious riches of Christ.
Have mercy my Lord and my God,
Lest I, in the folly of me,
Choose foolishly that well-marked road
The broad path walked by Pharisee.
Not master but servant I am,
Indentured to glorious grace,
In freedom to give from Your heart,
And know You my only safe place.