Some other heart than mine

Wrote the words to my life

Some other voice than mine

Spoke the words of my life

Yet in their distant echoes

IÝ sense and perceive

That I am part of something

As big as the One in whom I believe.

He is the potter I am the clay

He is the author of my book of days

Heís the designer of all of ways

Heís at the center of Lifeís living maze.

In some other heart than mine

Beats my eternity

Some other Voice sublime

Is singing over me.

Yet that song moves my soul

And draws me ever on.

That drumbeatÝ marks the path

My feet are set upon.

He is the maker of myÝ heart

He is creatorÝ ready to bless

He is the artist working his art

We are his instruments of righteousness.

Anthony Foster

June 6, 2005