The moon is slung heavy above the Texas horizon and I cried all the way home. She is a pearl dug half-way out of a hill, an orange pearl made of fire and sand, and I can't help but weep at her magnificence. I am smaller because she is lower. The earth is the Lord's and everything in it. Give me Jesus, Give me Jesus. You can have all this world, but give me Jesus.
The song is on repeat all the way because there is nothing in the world I want more than Him.
Nothing more than Him except everything else I want. And, oh, oh how I want.
I want to be a pearl instead of a pebble, but I am the one looking at a cold dark rock and calling it a blazing pearl tonight. The earth is the Lord's and everything outside it too.
I pull my car in the driveway and press repeat once more, lean my head back and stare at that full bellied orb in the east. She is nothing more than what she reflects.
Still I live my life selling everything I own to buy a field that hides a rock instead of a pearl.
You can have all this world, but give me Jesus.