To Be Loved

We might not know if it has a name
We might call it circumstance
We might try to look the other way
We might think it’s accident
It’s a wound--it's a sting
It’s a finger with a string
It’s a song with no words that we know
It’s a mist--it's a dream
It’s a faded memory
And we want it bad
We want it bad
To be here
To be now
To be open to the truth
To be held
To be seen
To be heard
To be faith
To be hope
And greatest gift of all--
To be loved--all we really want is
To be loved
We might call it the price of growing up
We might think it’s fairytale
We might try to medicate the ache
We might think we’re all alone
It’s a name we can’t speak
It’s a stranger on the street
It’s a hope in the things not seen
It’s a peace that we crave
It’s the thing for which we’re made
And we want it bad
We want it bad
We find no rest until we rest in You
We cling to our stubbornness
We let go of what we never had
To find our way to You
‘Cause we hurt and we bleed
In our brokenness and need
And we’re scared to come in too close
But Your love has a way
Of invading every space
And we want it bad
We want it bad