Illness of The Heart Lyrics

Illness of the heart

Father, have you ever spared the rod?

I am in a mess of my own making

I am in between two states of being

Father, would you gently lead me

Guide me, mold me, heal the

Illness of the heart

When I am afraid

There is not a word my friends can say

I am in sinking ship of worry

I am in a Petri dish of living

Father, would you override

My body, soul, and mind and the

Illness of the heart

I know you can make me well

Father, make me well

Illness of the heart

Beauty is a kind of medicine

But there is no physician like repentance

There is no condition past forgiveness

There is not a healing like the holy love that leads to

The stillness of the heart

Love me with your all

Or don't love me at all

Stillness of the heart

I am still a novice at the art

I am still embarrassed in your presence

I am still ashamed of being naked

I am still afflicted by unwillingness to kill the

Illness of the heart