decide

this is today's entry from diary of an old soul by george mcdonald. any attempt by me to comment or expound on it will only take away from it's beauty.

'Tis--shall thy will be done for me?--or mine,
And I be made a thing not after thine--
My own, and dear in paltriest details?
Shall I be born of God, or of mere man?
Be made like Christ, or on some other plan?--
I let all run--set thou and trim my sails;
Home then my course, let blow whatever gales.