Jesus, You had no bed,
but a rock for your head.
Yet we fuss
'cause our pillow isn't fluffy enough.
You were probably grateful for the rock,
when we're not grateful for our house.
How miserable we get
when the electricity is out.
It's ridiculous when I think of it,
the blessings that we have.
Yet we act like spoiled little brats
instead of giving thanks to Your Dad.
Father God, I'm sorry for my behavior,
throwing fits for something more.
Mold me into a grateful child,
instead of the brat I was before.
