Things are not in my hands

Nothing is in my hands
That you have not put there.
There is no gift I bring
You did not give me first.

What I will be, what I become,
These are the choices you have put before me;
What I need to be as a  branch grafted to your vine,
All this you have given me.
What I do with it,
You leave up to me.

As you ascended, Lord
So let me ascend
From the many graves I have dug for myself.
Give me the grace so that someday I might follow
Where I may not follow;
To the place of your Father's many rooms.

Nothing is in my hands, Lord
Except this one thing:

Your hand in mine.