Why do they run from the water,
from the gentle drops of rain,
like a baptism from heaven,
the precious gift of life?
I don't have a lot to offer,
to the one who gave me life,
just my faith and my surrender,
to the plan that He has made.
And if I let Him touch me,
let the blessings fall upon me,
if I stand beneath the sunshine,
'neath the snow, and 'neath the rain.
I will gather all the gifts,
the pictures blazoned in my mind,
and I will have lived the life I should have,
will be blessed for all my days.
