speck of sand

I'm standing on a street corner

In the middle of Manhattan

Where millions of people march by.

Why?

I'm here, they're here, You're here.

And God, You know me?

I'm climbing on cliffs

In the Tennessee hills,

Just me and a few others, too.

Who?

I'm here, they're here, You're here.

And God, You know me?

Getting up from the beach

In sunny Virginia,

Dusting grains of sand from my feet,

I think...

I'm here, the sand's here, You're here.

And God, You know me?

Millions of people, tiny grains of sand

All in Your hands, in Your hands.

You care for me, love me, answer my prayers,

Whisper my name,

Know the number of hairs on my head,

and God, You know me.

I'm Your speck of sand,

But You know who I am.

You know who I am,

And You love me.

You know who I am,

And You love me.

"But the very hairs of your head are all numbered."  Matthew 10:30

"And I will make thy seed as the dust of the earth: so that if a man can number the dust of the earth, then shall thy seed also be numbered."  Genesis 13:16