YOUR VIOLIN

In Your love oh God You made me
an instrument so fine,
alone I make no music
I need Your bow divine.

As You touch my strings with love
my first notes weak, unsure,
my strings in need of tuning
my melody as yet obscure.

With patience You continue
to bring out the best in me,
tenderly keeping careful watch
from impure notes, You set me free.

My melodies are ever growing
richer, sweeter, more sublime,
my desire, pining ever
to unite my song to Thine.

The day will come when finally
You draw Your bow divine,
and the song I play forever
to eternity will climb.

Then You will bid me ever play
my love song, perfect, true,
with joy I’ll ever praise You God
for making me, for You.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Mar. 05, 1999