Who am I, but a speck of dust, a screw in a machine built to rust?
Who am I, in the wider picture? On the road to heaven I am one of many hitchers.
Who am I, but one of many atoms, just another bearing the weight of the sins of Adam?
Who am I, but a searching reason, a victim of the cold in a winter season?
Who am I, but a number or symbol, who on a chart is just a pimple?
Who am I, but a hair on millions of heads, a single cell where the Son bled?
Who am I, but a drop of water in an ocean, a dot in a love letter of devotion?
Who am I, but blade of grass in a field, a splinter of shrapnel on a shield?
Who am I, but a string in a symphony, a letter in a million songs to be?
Who I am, is a child of the One, who pays as much attention to me as the creation of the Sun.
Who I am, is a blessed man, whose lavish blessings have no span.
Who I am, is the victim of jealousy, whose Father’s love is overtly zealous.
Who I am, is a child saved from sin, and whose Father’s patience never wears thin.
Who I am, is better than I could ever be, without a Father who loves me extravagantly.
Ryan Lane 2012