Never Falls In Vain

(Intro)

Pour Your faith into my mind… my heart is wandering like Israel in the desert,
and this valley is so dark… even my prayers return without an echo.
“Your Word is a lamp”… that ancient psalm still calls to me,
but since she left… the lamp flickers,
and every sense in me feels exiled.

(Chorus)

And when the night weeps heavy in my chest,
Lord, You hold me up when breath forgets my lungs.
If You took the one I loved, I tremble to ask the reason—
’cause what descends from heaven… never falls without a mission.

(Choir echo: “Never falls… without a mission…”)

(Verse 1)

God… You trace my footsteps, my failures, the trembling of my spirit—
like in Jeremiah: “Before you were formed… I set you apart.”
And I believed her embrace was a verse in Your eternal story,
but sometimes You write with heartbreak…
and ink made of sorrow.

She was my silence in the storm, my psalm in the city’s madness,
but You were the cornerstone—
the Stone the builders refused,
the Rock beneath the waves of my sadness.

And when my soul fell like Jerusalem’s broken walls,
You whispered to me gently…
like You did to Elijah under the juniper tree:
“Rise and eat… the road is long.”

I wept until my strength abandoned me,
yet You lifted my ruins like You lifted dry bones in Ezekiel’s valley.
For though I lost what I thought was destiny,
You showed me…
nothing eternal is ever taken—
only revealed.

(Chorus)

And when the night weeps heavy in my chest,
Lord, You hold me up when breath forgets my lungs.
If You took the one I loved, I tremble to ask the reason—
’cause what descends from heaven… never falls without a mission.

(Choir: “Never… never without a mission…”)

(Verse 2 )

I’m Jacob in the midnight, wrestling angels in the dust of my despair,
clinging to a blessing like a lifeline,
scared to let go,
scared to stay.

And in this battle where my heart bleeds like Abel’s cry from the ground,
You press on the wound—
but You’re also the One who heals it.

She was a beautiful psalm… but psalms fade into silence,
like flowers pressed between pages of Your eternal book.
You rebuild what fire devours,
You restore what locusts consume,
You make new what heartbreak ruins.

If this loneliness is my furnace of refinement,
then let it purify everything—
everything but the ember of faith You placed in me.

Though I walk through the valley where shadows grow like kingdoms,
my God…
with You, even sorrow
turns into a pillar of fire.

(Outro)

Faith is lifting your eyes to heaven
while the earth beneath you collapses like a broken temple.
It’s trusting the Author…
even when you can’t read the next verse.

If she never returns, then You have inscribed another name in my story,
and if she does… let her come as blessing, not a wandering shadow.

So here I remain, God—
between ruins and promises,
between ashes and anointing oil,
but with the trembling certainty…
that whatever You touch…
is reborn in beauty.