I built myself a house
That was so great and grand.
I built with all the best
Materials at hand.
I built the walls of straw,
The floor of stubble hay,
The beams were painted reeds,
Foundations made of clay.
In envy of my house,
All people came to gaze.
And I have all I need,
In this, the house I raised.

But then God sent a wind,
With lightening from the sky,
In leveling my house,
He leveled too my pride.
For with my hand I built,
And now He struck my hand,
And so I see my sin.
I see that I am damned.

Forgive me for my pride,
For humbled now I see,
When You hacked down my house,
It was a grace to me.
My house but blocked my view,
And limited my sights.
Now clearly I perceive,
Your holy house of life.

Your house is built in gold,
With bedrock as its root.
Of cedar beams the roof,
The walls of granite hewn.
I come before Your door,
And fall upon my knee.
Do you let sinners in?
Will You open to me?
My name’s above the door.
O Lord, how could it be?
When I was yet in sin,
You built Your house for me?

I want to honor You,
In everything I do,
As saints before proclaimed the Lord.
For I’ve been given much,
And privileged as such,
The more I’m blessed, the greater test.
By nature I would not,
Obey You as I ought,
but serve my lusts and damn the just.
Inclined to hate and spurn,
Your holy Law and Word,
And keep for me my offering.
Without You, I am damned,
The worst of every man,
Offending, not attending You.
I tremble lest You say,
“Because you disobey,
Depart My sight — you I despise.”
I want to honor You,
In everything I do,
I need Your might to do what’s right.
Oh, gird me in Your truth,
Your glory be my proof,
And let my tongue make Your name known.
Make up what’s lax in me,
And give me sanctity,
To demonstrate that You are great.
And fill me so complete,
That when men speak of me,
The can’t so do, but speak of You.