All About Me

For better or worse, my life is about me.
In the mighty avalanche of life,
the only vantage point I can claim
is my own skin.

My life is about me,
the people I love,
the creation I delight in,
the indwelling God
who transforms me day by day.
Love and growth and creativity.
Is that so bad?

"It's not about me," sounds noble,
They say God demands our devotion.
I'm urged to serve him,
but according to whose agenda?
When God and I talk,
He seems strangely content
with the relationship we have.

If I exist to serve others,
then their purpose must be
to serve me.
So why are they so quick to hassle me
with strait-jacket prophecies?
Do they think I'm deaf?
I am made in God's image.
Isn't that enough?

If I must lose my life to save it
I must invest wisely.
If I'm wrong,
at least let my mistakes be mine,
my own choice,
my own making.