Poetry

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Get ready for the merciful maneuver.
Grace pours in like a rust remover.
Goodness floods in. It's out of control.
Not from your hand, but from a higher hold.
 
It won't tarry, even though you wait.
Grace is every saint's eventual fate.
It's for the good, it's for His glory.
It's the period at the end of your story.
 
It is redemption for sin's heist.
It is the heart of Jesus Christ.
It's as deep as a heavenly flood.
Just as rich as the Savior's blood.

Grace is the gift for the born-above,
  the colors in the spectrum of God's holy love.

Grace'll never leave us, this is our Jesus.
Love from the Father, found in this Brother.
The Servant is the Maker, both Lord and the Savior.
The Yes and the Amen, like the Spirit's prayin'.
I'm overtaken. Not lost or forsaken.
In this gift of grace see the Father's face.

© 11-16-2010

 

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