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It Was Never Supposed To Be Like This When I stop to consider my
father, It wasn’t supposed to
be like this. He was meant to be a righteous man.
I look past him to his father,
And I see the pattern. God help me that the pattern
stops here. It was never meant to be like this.
When he grew into a man, He was given a choice; He could yield as a king under
God, And so fear the Almighty. Or he could live his life rightly in his eyes.
God help me, Help me to yield.
He and his fathers before him,
They never loved their wives.
They knew no respect and undying
love. Instead they wrecked their
families by their selfish ways. Oh God, it was never meant to be like this!
You meant for a man to love
his wife Like Christ loves His Church;
It was to be an image of God’s love.
But from what a height we have
fallen, From what a height we have fallen.
He didn’t love my mom
the way he should have. How can a man treat the wife
of his youth with shame? How can a man despise part
of his soul? God help me, may I never do the same.
As I grow into a man, O God,
You show me the paths set before
me. Teach me the way to go. Help me to choose rightly.
Let me understand the power
of a king. Indeed, the influence of even
a simple man like me, That I might not take life
lightly, O that I might never take it lightly.
May I choose to fear God and
do no wrong to men. May I love my wife as I love
myself, And crown her with love and
compassion. May I rather die than ruin my children’s home.
It is not fitting for a man
to break his wife’s heart. It is not fitting for him to
tear a piece of her soul from within her being. It is not right for him to
not raise his sons in the way they should go. It is not right for him to not delight in his daughters as the morning dawn.
O God, I need a father. I need a man who can show me,
One who has gone before me,
Who knows the path already.
The path is too hard, and too
strong, That even I in the strength
of my youth know I will fail. The generations before me have
fallen, And You O God alone can break the pattern.
You said that pure religion
is this; To visit the fatherless and
widows, And meet them in their affliction.
Yea I will go Lord, I will be a father to them.
For You O God have met me.
My soul weeps through a broken
smile, For You have been my father.
The Father of the fatherless, and protector of widows, is God in His holy habitation. (Psalm 68:5) |