Sometimes my prayers seem so empty
Your voice seems so far away
But in my pain I see You molding me
You are the potter, I'm the clay
Chorous:
In Your hands, for every storm there is a reason
In Your hands, there is a time for every season
Though my tears may fall, You hold me close
And love me through it all
In Your hands...
When the clouds form all around me
I know the rain will bring new life
With every trial just keep molding me
As your plan unfolds before my very eyes
You turn my weeping into dancing
You give my feet a place to stand
You will not turn away the asking
Even when Your ways are hard to understand