Oh, how heavy they are to carry.
My beautiful chains.
Wrap them around my hands and my feet.
For they and they only can determine my movement.
Oh, what foolishness it is.
To be a slave who loves his chains.
What a lonesome journey it is.
A million deaths I die daily.
I part daily with those things which I would rather have.
But my hands are tied.
The guard sits on my lips and in my heart.
Oh, how I love Him.
For He teaches me the way that I should take.
On my bed, whilst it is still dark, He counsels me.
He’s my Father and my Friend.
He is always with me.
How I desire to please Him.
What a privilege it is to be called out and called up.
Such is the life of anyone who desires to follow Jesus.
His appetites are tamed.
His life cannot be his.
His desires are laid down.
His pursuit is his Father’s business.
He forsakes all to follow.
A source of pain at times.
The greatest delight.
He dies a million deaths.
In order that he may take nothing for the journey.
Oh, these chains.
They are all I can carry.