Pauper, King or I

From New York, Cairo or Beijing,
and whether pauper, me or king -
You can find us when we're lost -
and You don't charge - there is no cost.

I cannot look You in the eye -
for oh, so little faith, have I.
All jumbled with mistakes today,
I struggle for some words to say.

The paupers beg and get their bread -
their stomachs speak until their fed.
The servants jump when their king calls
as his word echoes through the halls.

Yes, paupers beg and Kings decree -
but who can hear my words, but me?
I'm so confused and so resigned -
Your answers, I can't seem to find.

I try to listen with both ears,
and pray Your answers calm my fears.
I need Your wisdom, need Your aid,
I'm so distraught and so afraid.

I stumble through life's desert sand -
that's dry and hot. Please hold my hand.
My life is mixed up, a montage -
is this a dream, a mere mirage?

I wait for Your most tender tug.
I need a special, loving hug.
Though even with a sincere kiss,
I yet again would fall amiss.

Although I study, work and learn -
I really have no place to turn.
So stumble I, the narrow, straight,
until arriving at Your gate.

Your grace has triumphed over foe,
and why You listened, I don't know -
for You have seen the way I live,
so why, Lord, do you still forgive?

---

What 'lot' in life that we are giv'n,
matters not with grace from Heaven -
so whether pauper, king or I -
"For God so loved..." and that is why.