Poetry

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I own a pair of glasses; my God crafted them by hand
They correct my blurry vision, though the world can’t understand

I put on my special glasses to focus on what God would see
In the faces of the people He has put in touch with me

I can see beyond their anger, and hurtful words that so offend
Beneath the calluses are tender, broken hearts afraid to mend

Sometimes I forget my glasses, and I judge with turned up nose
Later I repent in sorrow, as denial’s rooster crows

I’m so thankful, God in heaven, has such special vision too
For without it, I would never measure up or follow through

God’s great vision is so holy; He sees this child through eyes of grace
Upon His palms, my loving Father, placed the image of my face

There are times I fail to witness, afraid to “practice what I preach”
Lord, remind me every day, to keep my glasses within reach

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