So many worlds I live in In some no room for me at all In others I'm forgiven Free to rest in being small Take me to the home we're making Where all is finally in its place Inviting in that great belonging Who meets us in each other's face I'm caught inside a promise Bigger than I'll ever understand And I'm caught inside my wounds Deeper than my own two hands can mend But holy is the broken ground on which we stand So let our soil be tilled by the Maker's hand So many well-worn paths we travel With aimless feet on dead-end days Blind to every grace unraveled Underneath our winding ways But you are where I'm safe to stand On the day my feet are sore We find our footing hand in hand Further always than before Strength in need Counselor in perplexity Comforter in sorrow Companion in joy I'm caught inside a promise And I'm caught inside my wounds But holy is the broken And I give it all to you So let our soil be tilled And our bellies filled Let our hearts be healed by the Maker's hand