Lifted Like the Woodlands

The woodlands are swaying, as though they are praying,
Boughs lifted high, stretching into the sky.
In reverence of the Creator, my sole Hope and Savior.

This is how I long to be,
Unceasingly praising my Lord and King,
By day and by night,
Through each of life's fight's.

When the gusts try to break me,
When torrential rains drench me,
Still let me stand firm,
A quiet strength within the storm.

No matter the trial,
Let my soul wear a smile,
With arms lifted high, stretching into the sky,
In honor of the Creator, my sole Hope, my Savior.