When All I Had Was Praise

You were my God,
When all I had was praise,
When I had no money,
To further Your great cause,
Nor fame nor honor to return to You.
And my talents raw and scattered,
Were in undeveloped phase.
You were my God,
When all I had was praise.

I like a child,
Would bring You tokens, droll,
Of songs, glad yet awkward,
And verses scribbled down,
In brief and mirthful instances when I,
Was astonished into singing
And, as birds, with my heart whole,
Warbled my thanks
For mercy on my soul. 

But I, in tears,
Would think on my low state:
How I floundered useless,
In service to Your throne,
Unskilled in mercy, speech or saintly ways,
And when, vexed, I'd call for action, 
"Hasten Life and hasten Fate!"
Your Providence
Would gently whisper, "Wait."

Such whispers, sweet,
Birthed patience in those days.
I was rendered speechless,
By mercy's depth amazed,
That while I lingered, still, You lingered too:
Teaching, guiding, ever loving;
Though I lightly trod Your ways.
You were my God,
When all I had was praise.

All I now have,
Belongs to You always.
Let not better seasons,
This cause me to forget.
Oh help me never fail to honor You,
Let me never fail to render 
Ceaseless thanks for all my days,
You who were my God
When all I had was praise.

© Chloe S. Flanagan 2017