All I Have

Built around a repeated plea to "empty my hands," this worship song works through the tension between what we can see and hold and what actually satisfies. The opening lines ask to be content apart from visible things, and the chorus answers with a paradox: if Christ is all that remains, the singer has everything. The verses name specific attachments — riches, successes, treasures, possessions — and stack them against a worth that outlasts them, calling earthly gains temporary and the beloved "the greatest prize, the one that never fades." The bridge turns the surrender into declaration, repeating that God is worth more and is everything, so the emptying isn't loss but exchange. The song stays in that posture rather than resolving into a story; it's a prayer of relinquishment sung as a statement of trust, with the final repetitions of "I have everything" landing as quiet certainty rather than triumph. Its emotional register is steady and unhurried, closer to a vow than a celebration.