I yearn for my life to be the scrap of paper
where Jesus writes a love note.
I yearn to be like Jesus—
to treat everyone I meet with compassion and grace—
without sacrificing the truth.
I yearn for Jesus, when His will I’ve disobeyed,
to call me quickly to His side.
His discipline stings, but only for a while.
.
I yearn to have the Savior hear my prayer
and then speak.
His answers have never failed me, and won’t.
I yearn to put aside excuses …
to give my all without grudge or worry.
I yearn for Jesus, when I wake,
when I work, and at the end of the day.
But my yearning is weak.
Could my yearning be more intentional?
With heaven as home, I yearn to know
that loved ones will be there.
I yearn to follow, and I yearn to lead.
I yearn to be discipled and to disciple others.
I yearn for the joy of the Lord.
It IS my strength.
Am I accountable for my yearnings?
What I yearn for is a gift, not fully unwrapped.
Still, I yearn—for more.
Lord, please don’t take my yearnings from me.
Jesus, change me. Lead me. Push me.
I yearn to be that scrap of paper.
Write a love note on my life.
Sign it, Jesus, and make your signature plain.
I yearn to deliver it.
It would be a privilege, a blessing.
I would be pleased to deliver it—
with a word, with a hug or a smile,
with a helping hand, or with my tears.
This list of hungry souls is overwhelming me.
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