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Oh that I might somehow be, As strong and as tall as a mighty tree. A tree that lifts its limbs to the sky, Lending its shade to all who pass by.
A tree that has stood the test of the years, Withstanding storms that brought struggles and tears. Walking by faith in the years of drought, As the streams quit rushing, and supplies ran out.
A tree whose heart, to bear fruit aches, Yet is willing to wait as long as it takes, Devoting its life to just knowing God, Sending its roots into His rich sod.
Until one day, the comment is made, “Let’s go stand under that tree and drink of its shade; Let’s go rest ‘neath those branches the birds rest upon, There is a tree we can all lean on.”
Oh, that I might become one day, That kind of tree; and how I pray That as the years pass, men would see in me, The kind of tree I was meant to be.
