Father, I worry so
But I want to know
Will You prune me to grow?
Or tell me to go?

Where's the fruit?
I'm baring my roots
Standing to fall over
When the wind blows colder

In You I confide
And yet I don't abide!
Instead I leave Your side
I go run and hide...

I don't want to wither
And grow ever bitter
I need to love You,
Truly, Your commands, too.