Immediate Care (2006) by Bill Stutzman

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

Paradise Lost (Adam’s Lament)

Is this then the end of this new glorious world, 

And me from most blessed to most cursed on the earth?  

I hide me from God, who all this unfurled, 

Who once to behold was the height of all mirth.  

 

Maker did I ask Thee from clay to man to shape me? 

 

My judgment is just, but how can I bear it?  

From sky down to dust all is cursed for my sake.  

And what from this man can my children inherit

But undying death, never free from sin’s ache? 

 

Maker did I ask Thee from clay to man to shape me? Maker, did I ask? 

 

 When this old dust returns to dust, raise a Hope, a Seed to trust, and then water Him with these my tears I shed for Paradise Lost.  And to Your great mercy I appeal.  I’m waiting for that Bruised Heel to crush the serpent’s head and reveal the new man, the one that I just couldn’t be. 

 

 A new enemy I’ve created in Death. 

 The knowledge of evil so bitter to taste.  

But still greater mystery that You who give breath 

Have far greater glory in saving this waste. 

 

Maker did I ask Thee from clay to man to shape me? Maker, did I ask? 

 

 When this old dust returns to dust, raise a Hope, a Seed to trust, and then water Him with these my tears I shed for Paradise Lost.  And to Your great mercy I appeal.  I’m waiting for that Bruised Heel to crush the serpent’s head and reveal the new man, the one that I just couldn’t be. 

 

 I’m deserving to die, to stay in the grave, 

And still you’d die for my family to save.  

Let my eyes not see what I’ve caused, 

And let my eyes not see anything 

Save for the grace of Thee.

 

When this old dust returns to dust, raise a Hope, a Seed to trust, and then water Him with these my tears I shed for Paradise Lost.  And to Your great mercy I appeal.  I’m waiting for that Bruised Heel to crush the serpent’s head and reveal the new man, the one that I just couldn’t be. 

 

Copyright 2006 Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

Faded  

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

Saw it shining in a window, 

Just like in my dream, 

But more perfect than I’d pictured—

Most perfect thing I’d seen.  

 

You get tired of what you’re used to; 

I’ve gotten too attached.  

Now you’re going to greener pastures

Like this one once surpassed.  

 

All I have is faded and worn around the edges.  

I don’t want what I used to–shiny broken pledges.  

 

Now give me just this one thing.  

This time it will last.  

The happiest of moments—

Is mine already past?  

 

All I have is faded and worn around the edges.  

I don’t want what I used to–shiny broken pledges.  

 

And how about you?  Will you go too?  

Will you shine and will you fade like all things do 

When I’m just becoming close to fine with you?  

 

This time will be different.  

This time it will last—

That’s what I said the last time, 

When it faded like the rest.  

 

All this world is faded and worn around the edges—

rusty moth-balled treasures.  

 

Copyright 2006 Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

 

As If 

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

I’m like the clay calling the potter to account, 

Sad ’cause I’m filled but not the same amount.  

I’m like the envious pot talking back 

Upset with the kettle’s shade of black. 

 

I’m like the hammer that drives a wedge, 

A little depressed for not being a sledge.  

Some gifts seem the same but not the degree.  

Some days I’m not satisfied with me.  

 

As if I could choose, as if I could talk, 

As if I could run before I walk.  

As if I could draft a much better plan,

As if I were God and not a man. 

 

I’m like the smoke before the fire,

Predictable as my lingering unquenched desire; 

But if out of my sight it’s out of my head.  

Wasn’t I supposed to be where he is instead?  

 

As if I could choose, as if I could talk, 

As if I could run before I walk.  

As if I could draft a much better plan,

As if I were God and not a man. 

 

And as if in my offerings I could take Your place.  

Who am I but a fool who could be discontent with Your grace?  

As if my life were my own, I act, 

But still You’re taking me back 

As if I were Your only son.  

 

Still it makes no sense after all these years.  

I’m no closer but the dream is still clear.  

It’s like a burning I’ve never known, 

Like swimming in the ice to quench the fire deep in my bones.  

 

As if I could choose, as if I could talk, 

As if I could run before I walk.  

As if I could draft a much better plan,

As if I were God and not a man. 

 

And as if in my offerings I could take Your place.  

Who am I but a fool who could be discontent with Your grace?  

As if my life were my own, I act, 

But still You’re taking me back 

As if I were Your only son.  

 

Copyright 2006 Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

Bringing Back the Ark  

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman and Scott Mahurin

Time like sand passes by.  We don’t know it’s gone. 

 Faces changed and left again, I was all alone.  

 I recall near the fall that there were tears and pain.  

You were true.  You came through and pulled me out of the rain.  

 

There are people in my life who cut me down in strife.  

They can’t feel my heart burn.  

At times I just can’t recognize the human deep inside—

The answer is deep in your eyes.

  

Each time I find you bringing back the ark to me, 

And I see you loving me with godly unity.  

Bringing back the ark, you see. 

 

Sometimes I realize that the pain is near, 

But you call just in time to make gray skies clear.  

Together love conquers all, and they will know 

Without you by my side I don’t know where to go.  

 

There are people in my life who cut me down in strife.  

They can’t feel my heart burn.  

At times I just can’t recognize the human deep inside—

The answer is deep in your eyes.

  

Each time I find you bringing back the ark to me, 

And I see you loving me with godly unity.  

Bringing back the ark, you see. 

 

The faith I have in you is something I will treasure. 

The faith I have in you is something I will never lose.  

 

There are people in my life who cut me down in strife.  

They can’t feel my heart burn.  

At times I just can’t recognize the human deep inside—

The answer is deep in your eyes.

  

Each time I find you bringing back the ark to me, 

And I see you loving me with godly unity.  

Bringing back the ark, you see. 

 

Copyright 2006 Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

Within Reach 

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

Alone in this crowd, don’t know why I’m here—

No answers from doctors in all of these years.  

I’m well out of reach of the end of my rope.  

I’ve nothing that’s left in myself to have hope.  

 

If I could just get a bit closer—

Just to feel that shadow pass over me.  

 

My old friends would laugh if any remained—

To seek out a cure from a “madman” sounds insane.  

But what if it’s him—the Savior at last?  

There’s no one who wants me—an unclean outcast.  

 

If I could just get a bit closer—

Just to feel that shadow pass over me.  

 

 If I could get within reach 

Of that healing that I’ve heard him preach,

Could I stretch my hand out

Past my critics and doubt? 

 

My life blood flows out and with it my joy. 

I’ve spent all my means, every new trick employed.  

But maybe while He is distracted with crowds 

I’ll slip in and out and not make any sound.  

 

If I could just get a bit closer—

Just to feel that shadow pass over me.  

 

And here is my chance.  The crowd presses in—

No one will notice if I just touch His hem.  

 

 

Copyright 2006 Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

Fish Things  

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

There’s something I was wondering just the other day.  

Shouldn’t those who follow God be set apart some way?  

Maybe by their gracious hearts or something of that sort?  

Maybe by the Son of God who changes human hearts?  

But my observations scare me, when changing lives seems secondary. 

 

And the world will know we’re Christians by the fish things on our cars,

And all the drivers they will see now just how righteous we really are.  

Because everybody knows that love takes too much time to share, 

So they will have to know we’re Christians by the fish things that we wear

 

I made a big discovery and did my own research—

Many of us claim to follow God and just sit in church 

While many lost are wandering in need of real life,  

But it’s easier to water down the truth than speak like Christ.  

Still, I think I’ve heard it said, I think somewhere I may have read

 

That the world will know we’re Christians by the fish things on our cars,

And all the drivers they will see now just how righteous we really are.  

‘Cause everybody knows a cross is pretty tough to bear—

I guess they’ll have to see we’re Christians by the cross things that we wear.  

 

What good is your fish stuff if you don’t know Who it’s for?  

 

I think I’ve learned my lesson now and learned it really well—

If you’re wondering where Christians are there’s an easy way to tell—

But sad to say it’s not enough the way that it should be, 

And a world lost in desperate need is waiting to believe.  

But unless we set things straight, too many souls will learn too late

 

And the world will know we’re Christians by the fish things on our cars,

And all the drivers they will see now just how righteous we really are.  

And if we want to show them life is more than they’re aware, 

Then they won’t know that we are Christians until we start to care.  

 

Copyright 2006 Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

 

One Heart Beat   

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

This dull aching in my chest—

Deeper pain than smiles might suggest.  

This world’s burdens keep me aloof. 

 If there’s one thing I cannot shake when they won’t hear the truth –

All I’m left with is the burden of proof.  

 

Heart of God beat for me, 

For my heart beats for You, 

And when these days are through

We’ll be one heart beating true.  

 

This slow beating makes me grow cold—

Still so young to feel so old, 

Still so scared that I might lose my hold.   

 

Heart of God beat for me, 

For my heart beats for You, 

And when these days are through

We’ll be one heart beating true.  

 

A heart of stone can’t know what’s real.  

You made me love, you made me feel 

What I cannot touch, 

But sometimes it’s just too much.  

Oh, I need you so much.  

 

This deep longing for something that’s lost—

More than a heartbeat at a much greater cost—

No less than a new start and a flower from the frost.      

 

Copyright 2006 Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

 

Living Proof  

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

Am I the only one who sees it, 

Or is everybody right and I’m the one who’s wrong?  

What would it mean to say we’ve changed 

When they’re not ready to receive it,

Determined just to doubt us all along? 

 

I’ll never have to prove myself to You.  

You died for me–there’s nothing more to prove.  

Even if my friends all turn to foes, 

I know before You I’ll stand, and I will not be moved.  

 

I sit condemned in every private court across the land.  

In living rooms the bench is harsh–my sentence on their tongues.  

And every friend I had fights for the right to boast and stand 

And say the words ‘I told you so’ to all ears old and young.  

 

I’ll never have to prove myself to You.  

You died for me–there’s nothing more to prove.  

Even if my friends all turn to foes, 

I know before You I’ll stand, and I will not be moved.  

 

As long as in the end I’m counted as Your friend, 

As long as in the end You count me true.  

As long as in the end I’m looking just like You, 

O Lord, I can forget of all the fires I’ve been through.  

 

And maybe they would know since they have had a ringside seat 

From far away while I have been here standing right up close.  

Perhaps I’m guilty of a blindness for the things I love—

Near-sighted as I am these things are right before my nose.  

 

I’ll never have to prove myself to You.  

You died for me–there’s nothing more to prove.  

Even if my friends all turn to foes, 

I know before You I’ll stand, and I will not be moved.  

 

Copyright 2006 Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

 

 

Write Me a Love Song  

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

One day I’ll get it right—

I’ll send my love on time—

the perfect Valentine.  

I think of her so much 

I forget she’s on my mind 

Until I’m left to just repine.  

 

One day I’ll make her see 

I need her just the same, 

The way that she needs me.   

Because if good intents were flowers, 

There’d be roses every hour 

I meant to treat her as my queen.  

 

She’d say “Write me a love song, or take me out for tea.  

I want to feel special, to know you still love me. 

 It doesn’t  have to be too fancy or too fine—

I just want every day to feel like Valentine’s.”  

 

One day I’ll plan ahead

For tomorrow comes too soon

And weeks pass in afternoons.  

And the seed I plant right now 

Will be fruit someday somehow.  

Love takes some work to stay in bloom.

 

She’d say “Write me a love song, or take me out for tea.  

I want to feel special, to know you still love me. 

 It doesn’t  have to be too fancy or too fine—

I just want every day to feel like Valentine’s.”  

 

And she’s worth all the extra efforts I could make, 

And so I want there to be no mistake this time.  

 

She’d say “Write me a love song, or take me out for tea.  

I want to feel special, to know you still love me. 

 It doesn’t  have to be too fancy or too fine—“

Just so she will know she’s still my Valentine

 

Copyright 2006 Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

Sooner or Later  

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

Our time is relatively short for walking on this earth, 

But today like many days it seems too long.  

I watch the lines go by and sometimes wonder what it’s worth, 

But when you share the road it makes me strong.  

 

I never have to ask for proof to know you understand

You never have to say you share my dreams

As much as we get comfortable, we’re pilgrims in this land

And life is almost never what it seems.

 

Nothing lasts forever, but I was hoping you might stay.  

 

Oh, but sooner or later, I know, I know, 

We’ll take our separate paths and go.  

And sooner or later, I don’t know when, 

Perhaps our paths will meet again.  

I say it’s not a big deal, but these tears sting my eyes, 

And I was hoping that we could be through 

With our saying good-byes.

  

To think of you is to be home abroad in distant shores 

When I hear my Father’s voice inside your songs. 

It seems to me a simple thing for us to live next door, 

But who are we to say where we belong?    

 

Nothing lasts forever, but I was hoping you might stay.  

 

Oh, but sooner or later, I know, I know, 

We’ll take our separate paths and go.  

And sooner or later, I don’t know when, 

Perhaps our paths will meet again.  

I say it’s not a big deal, but these tears sting my eyes, 

And I was hoping that we could be through 

With our saying good-byes.

 

And is it that nothing lasts forever or that I was hoping you would stay?

 

Copyright 2006 Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

 

The Corner  

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

If these were my famous last words, 

Would they be like a tree that’s falling in the woods?  

No one there to hear it make a sound—

No one there to watch me hit the ground.  

And would it matter anyway?  

 

If this were my last day on earth, 

Would it feel like a type of new rebirth?  

Would perspectives like stars be realigned?  

Would objectives like words be redefined, 

And would it matter anyway—just another normal day?  

 

Tomorrow I’ll have to believe that this might be the day the corner is finally turned.  

Your mercies are all I’m packing, and I won’t be looking back again

To kiss these days good-bye.  

 

If this were the last time things went wrong, 

Would I still have to smile and play along, 

Or would it matter what I’d say?  

They wouldn’t want to know anyway.  

 

Tomorrow I’ll have to believe that this might be the day the corner is finally turned.  

Your mercies are all I’m packing, and I won’t be looking back again

To kiss these days good-bye.  

 

And if tomorrow is just like yesterday, 

Perhaps I’ll stay in bed and do my best to pray, 

But I’ll keep dreaming anyway.

 

Tomorrow I’ll have to believe that this might be the day the corner is finally turned.  

Your mercies are all I’m packing, and I won’t be looking back again

To kiss these days good-bye.  

 

Copyright 2006 Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music