Nightlights

Be Thou exalted over my reputation/ ‘Cause applause is a poor form of soul medication / And I've tried it for years but my symptoms remain / Still fretting the day that they'll misplace my name / Still selling my soul for American fame / Treating the promotion of Jesus like a well oiled machine / Advancing His kingdom just to snag some acclaim / Now, I'm both comforted and haunted that it isn't just me though / I see a nation of people needing to feed their own egos / Parading status like steeples / Do we not know it's evil to love ourselves more than both God and His people? / But see, here's where you turn this poem on it's head / ‘Cause the greatest among us came as servant instead / And You humbled Yourself to the point of Your death / Apparently love for the Father's glory runs red / So friends, will we point to the Son till our own flames grow dim? / Will our bright lights become merely nightlights near Him? / Words echo once, let them echo again / Be Thou exalted over my reputation