Shunned At A Funeral — Ride Through The Fields

I don't deserve the honor
I don't earn the call
And music
I'm clay on the wheel
I don't shape it all
The potter could speak
And the mountains would move
He could shout the gospel straight into
The gloom.
And singing
But he placed it in vessels
With dust in their veins
Put fire in our lungs
And a song in our frame
I don't carry the power
I just carry the sound
It's his truth on my lips as my
Feet hit the ground
If he could do it alone
He still chose me
What a mercy
What a mystery
So let me ride through the fields with the wind in my hair.
Let me carry the hope like a banner in prayer.
Across
Every valley, through dust and flame, I'll sing the good news in jesus name.
I don't own the message.
I don't
Choose the plan
I'm just an instrument in the potter's hand
I've seen enough fold under mercies.
I've seen chains fall off in the dead of night.
I've watched
A whisper break a heart and soul.
Seen
Grace make the shattered whole.
This
Road ain't safe, but it's worth the scars.
I'll ride till
The stars forget who they are.
If all I
Leave is a single flame, then let it burn
With his holy name.
If he could do
It alone
He still chose me
What mercy
What mystery
So, let me ride through the fields with the wind in my hair.
Let me carry the hope like a banner in prayer
Across every valley, through dust and flame, I'll sing the good news in
Jesus' name.
I don't own the message
I don't choose the plan
I'm just an instrument in the potter's hand
If my voice should tremble, let it still
Be true.
If my knees should shake, I'll
Lean on you.
I don't need the strength to save a soul.
I just
Need the faith to let you go.
So, break
Me open.
Breathe me alive.
Put your song
In my chest.
Let the silence divide.
If
This breath is borrowed, then take it
Again and sing through me, Lord.
Sing
Through me there
So let
Me ride through the fields with the wind
In my hair.
Let me carry the hope like a
Banner in prayer.
Across every
Valley, through dust and flame, I'll
Sing the good news in
Jesus' name.
I'm
Sold on the message, I don't
Choose a plan, I'm just an instrument in the potter's and singing hand