God Who Are You

God who are you?

Yes my Lord

God who are you?

God who are you?

mmm

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I been walking through this world with questions burning in my chest,

trying to understand the Architect behind the breath in my lungs.

Every step I take feel like a classroom,

every scar feel like scripture,

and every whisper in the dark sound like God asking me,

"Son... you ready to learn who I am?"

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God, who are You?

Are You the fire in the bush or the whisper in the cave,

the thunder on the mountain or the peace that makes me brave?

Are You the Judge with the tablets,

or the Shepherd with the staff,

or the Carpenter who walked the earth

with heaven in His path?

I'm running through Your history like a student with a hunger,

Genesis to Revelation, every page pulling me under.

You the God who split seas,

the God who freed slaves,

the God who wrote commandments

so we'd learn how to behave.

But You also the God who sits with sinners,

the God who heals the broken,

the God who turns a whispered prayer

into a prophecy spoken.

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Discipleship ain't a title —

it's a lifestyle.

It's waking up daily and choosing obedience

even when your flesh wanna run wild.

It's following footsteps you can't see

but you feel in your bones.

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Love ain't soft —

it's a war cry wrapped in tenderness.

Faith ain't blind —

it's vision sharpened by wilderness.

Sin creeps quiet,

evil moves loud,

but salvation walks steady

through the middle of the crowd.

I seen darkness try to choke me,

seen temptation try to own me,

seen the enemy throw lies

just to see if they could clone me.

But love pulled me back,

faith held me up,

grace washed me clean

when the guilt overflowed my cup.

And sin?

Sin taught me I'm human.

Evil taught me I need God.

Salvation taught me

that broken men can still beat the odds.

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Family ain't just blood —

it's the people God assigns to your journey.

Outreach ain't charity —

it's obedience.

It's loving the lost

because you remember being one.

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Commandments ain't chains —

they're guardrails on a cliff.

Prophecy ain't fortune‑telling —

it's God giving history a lift.

And me?

I'm a man molded by mercy,

a soul shaped by trials,

a runner in this race

counting footsteps by the miles.

I'm the echo of my ancestors,

the prayer of my mother,

the prophecy of a Father

who said I'd rise above the klutter.

God, who are You?

You the Alpha in my heartbeat,

the Omega in my breath,

the Author of my purpose,

the One who conquered death.

You the voice that calls me higher,

the fire in my chest,

the truth that keeps me running

when my spirit needs rest.

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So I run.

Not away —

but toward You.

Toward truth.

Toward purpose.

Toward the version of me

You dreamed before the world began.

And when they ask me who You are,

I'll answer with my life:

You are God...

and I am Yours.

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