Hillsong Worship - A Ti Me Rindo Lyrics

Video

A Ti Me Rindo (Lyric Video) - Hillsong Worship

Meaning & Inspiration

I’m still shaking the dust of the pig pen off my boots. Sometimes I catch a whiff of the mess I was living in, and it makes my stomach turn. Then I hear a track like "A Ti Me Rindo" by Hillsong Worship, and I don't feel like singing in a choir robe. I feel like dropping to the floor because my knees are the only things left that haven't been broken by my own choices.

The line that hits me sideways every time is, "Sacia mi sed."

It’s easy to talk about being thirsty when you’re standing in a comfortable room with your friends. But I know what it’s like to be parched in a way that water can't fix. It’s that dry, hollow ache in your chest where you’ve tried to pour every cheap substitute in to fill the gap. I’ve drank from broken cisterns—just like Jeremiah talked about—only to find out they were empty all along. When I hear that line, I’m not asking for a drink to get through the day; I’m admitting that I’m dying, and if the One I’m singing to doesn't show up, I’m done. It’s a desperate plea, not a polite prayer.

Then there’s this part: "Sopla en mi interior."

It brings me back to that scene in the dirt when the Creator breathed life into the first man. My lungs feel heavy. I’ve spent so much time holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the hammer of judgment to fall because of who I used to be. But the idea of Him blowing life into my interior? That’s the scandal of it. Why would the Father want to breathe into lungs that have whispered so many lies?

It shouldn’t make sense. It’s the same "unmerited scandal" of the story the old man told about the robe and the ring. I’m still standing here smelling like the fire, confused why the house hasn't been locked against me yet.

I don’t know if I’m "surrendered" yet, honestly. That word feels too big for me. Maybe I’m just exhausted from running. The lyrics say, "A ti me rindo," and for me, that’s just a fancy way of saying, "I quit." I quit trying to build my own life, I quit trying to hide the wreckage, and I quit pretending I’m not starving.

I’m not sure I’ve reached the "knowledge" part yet—where I truly know Him. I’m still just figuring out that He didn't turn me away at the door. That's enough for today. The rest of it—the "voluntad" and the "poder"—that feels like a lot to handle. But for now, I’m just letting the air back into my chest. He’s here, and the pig pen is a long way off. I guess that’s all that matters.