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I’ve spent so much of life on my knees,
To file away the little bumps
And add some dirt to little holes
Which have been made by my mistakes.
With “oopsies” here, and “whoopsies” there
I feel like Mr. Fix-it-Man,
Trying to heal my bumbling—
I want to fix it all with duct tape!
My greatest dream is to fix the world,
Alleviating all the pain—
But I have erred too many times!
A broken fake can’t change the world…
It’s not my job to heal the earth,
Or be the balm that soothes the heart;
There’s only One who gives the salve
That makes things calm in hurting lives.
And when I take this salve, I find,
That it can heal not just the world,
But every bump of my mistakes,
And it can seal up every hole!
No longer do I need to spend
My life upon my hands and knees—
Upon my feet, I find a future
And chase the dawn of all God planned…
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