I’m not the one I thought I’d be,
so strong and full of certainty,
an always kind and helpful man,
a willing heart and helping hand.

Time has a way of dulling down,
of rending sight and shorting sound,
of stealing spirit and hiding hope,
of twisting capable into cope,
and I, one time an earnest man,
determined to live a gracious stand,
have found that I have weathered too,
and bowed to circumstances too oft blue,
my zeal and warmth once golden gone,
my kinder instincts drained and wan.

I’m not the one I thought I’d be,
a sold out saint driven by mercy,
a shining star of thankful grace,
love’s autograph in time and space.

I’m not the one I thought I’d be.

But that’s okay-
life has a way,
of helping see us through,
that when we are bare,
He yet is there;
we’re wide, but
He still makes us anew.