Naked Freedom
This shoe that doesn't fit sorely rubs the tender sole,
to wound and then to harden.
The roughness of sin’s garment chafes the skin
to make that hole, where naked freedom
first was known, in perfect Eden's garden,
where sin was sown, and for that wounding
of the soul, was made that bleeding cover garment.
So, now that Christ was naked stripped,
His hands, His dear feet unjustly pierced,
His robe, a single fitting piece,
torn roughly by unholy hand,
let's shod our feet in gospel peace,
let’s bow our head to second man,
and robe again soft righteousness.
Copyright © Bob Kimmerling | Year Posted 2020
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