Gods mercy
The pews are rows of silent witnesses,
And my mind is a storm of "not enough,"
But the font keeps talking...
isn't a shout from a mountain peak,
Or a list of the ways I’ve been weak.
It’s the breath in my lungs when I’ve lost my own,
The seat at the table where I’m fully known.
Yesterday’s debts are dissolved in the sea,
This is the mercy He’s pouring on me.
Like a wheeping willows long graceful leaves, my sorrows spill out onto the morning dews grass, the wooden kneeler bares my weight, Lord Heavenly Father hear my cries, as I slowly exhale. “Jesus I trust you”, I quietly ask fir your undying Mercy, guide me in my days ahead.
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