"Transition times,
They come and go slowly.
Sweet and sour like limes,
Both exciting… and lonely.
They come with longings,
And fear.
They can bring freedom,
And they can sear.
Let me not shy away,
Though the trial is great.
Strengthen me I pray,
Before it is too late.
Without Thee I am weak,
I crumble and fall.
It is Thee my heart seek,
To Thee alone I call.
I feel the heat,
I feel the sting.
I am stuck in this seat,
But I hear Your voice sing,
'Though the fire is hot,
It purifies.
Though change is hard,
It brings maturity.'
I long for Your touch,
To remove the dross.
To fill me with strength such,
That I may carry my cross.
'Though the fire is hot,
It purifies.
Though change is hard,
It brings maturity.'
I hear your gentle voice,
It is time to decide.
I have made my choice,
In You alone I will confide.
Yes, the fire is hot,
But I need purifying.
Oh, the change is hard,
But it brings maturity.
Purify me,
No matter the cost.
Sanctify me,
That my soul may not be lost.
To no longer be an infant,
Tossed to and fro on the sea.
But a warrior sent,
To set the captives free.
I submit to His will,
For the glory of His Name.
Forsaking the frill,
That all might do the same."
