You set me on a raft that will drift out to sea.
You wish me well, saying it's nothing personal against me.
But you knew that the weather would be bad.
You knew that I didn't have food to survive.
You knew that I didn't deserve to be set afloat.
But you let me go. You set me to drift.
Crying will get me no where.
Tears have no effect on the inky black depths.
So I pray that the storm goes away -
And that my raft finds somewhere safe to rest.
As the days grow longer and my raft continues to drift,
I'm more at peace than the days before.
The water is at the mercy of those above.
The powers of the deep can have no effect on me.
Not when my peace in my Savior keeps me steady.
I'm at drift on the sea. This is day fifty-three.
But I'll be fine because I know there is a better place out there for me.