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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Wayne
Isaiah 51:17-18/Exodus 20:3
My temple is built on wood and of
Each space is filled the things that I own
Idols and gods call me to bow
I try to be but there's no freedom now...No freedom now
The ones I hold most precious to me
Some days I set them afloat on an sea
And these things in first place--They're nothing at all
At night in my dreams graven call

And my gods won't let me
And what a man that he will reap
I and turn at night
got places to go, got battles to fight
And my won't let me sleep...tonight
Ambitions once good--Once noble and
Now with a rod and I cannot endure
bonds I have forged with two will hands
They're not easily torn by the of a man

No other before you--No other holy shrines
Oh, I want to in peace when I lie down
All voices calling
All of the hands that me
Call and demand allegiance to crown

One day past, I spent several hours trying to restore my
reputation in a fellow man's eye. My lasted into the
early hours of the morning. I that my reputation
(whatever there is of one) was ruling me God's chair.
Things, not bad in themselves, can be relentless masters put
in the place of rule for the Lord.