And He shows me His plan for me;

The plan of my life as it might have been Had He had His way,

and I see How I blocked Him here and I checked Him there

And I would not yield my will,

Shall I see grief in my Savior’s eyes;

Grief though He loves me still’

Oh, He’d have me rich, and I stand there poor,

Stripped of all but His grace,

While my memory runs like a hunted thing

Down the paths I can’t retrace.

Then my desolate heart will well-nigh break

With tears that I cannot shed. 

I’ll cover my face with my empty hands

And bow my uncrowned head.

No.  Lord of the years that are left to me I yield them to Thy hand.

Take me, make me, mold me

To the pattern Thou hast planned.

The Judgment seat “is meant for us professing Christians, real and imperfect Christians; and it tells us that there are degrees in that future blessedness proportioned to present faithfulness.”