Truth be told, I’m cold;
But it’s not really me, it’s my heart that’s cold;
There was a time when my heart felt like molten gold,
Impassioned with zeal and love for the Lord;
Now, here’s an empty cold vessel made of gold;
It’s laden with dust and hidden out of sight;
But out of sight, is a dangerous place to be.
Truth be told, I’m scared;
But it’s not really me, it’s my soul that’s scared;
There was a time when salvation was assured, a certain rest;
I walked in peace and faith, and carried my cross with grace;
Now, there’s a heavy burden where my cross used to be;
My soul is wracked with doubts and exists falteringly;
But this sickening place of doubt, is a perilous place to be.
Truth be told, I’m lost;
But it’s not really me, it’s my future that’s lost;
There was a time when I knew where I was…where I was headed;
I ran the good race, stayed in the tracks, and kept the finish line in sight;
Now, there’s a jumbled mess where the tracks used to be;
My sight is clouded and my reason seems blinded to my goal;
But this ‘nowhere’ I find myself, is a terrifying place to be.
Truth be told, I’m found;
Yeah, it’s really me: spirit, soul, and body;
In this very difficult place, grace gave me another chance;
When I still had breath, and was sane enough to reach out;
Now, I’m warming that vessel of gold and keeping it fit for use;
I’m back on track, and refuse to take my eyes off the prize;
But this very last stretch ahead, is a difficultly pleasant place to be.