Looking to the hopeful side I am going
to pick up what is ever yet to be.
Hope springs in heart and life and I will choose it.
It’s this relentless dragging down that’s always
Carrying the burden of the past and add to that
the perfect running through and all about my head
and you see I’ve got a pretty bad case of the blues.
But that is not the choice to which I am called
The wild and glorious unmerited of Grace
is my portion. And can it be?
Since tiny girl with full heart that has passed
through valleys in the years to now
I have always, always struggled for the grace
to open wide and simply not think I need to be the
best. And not let the imperfection start mounting up, up, up
like some kind of muddy slide that’s surely going to cover me
at any moment.
The choice I know is the only choice that renders me free
is the one that looks this moment, now, to
the face of the beauty of what is done—perfect and whole.
It’s the not being able to get enough, you know.
The becoming completely transfixed by the One that is worthy!
to get stuck in this choice with the raised eyes and heart…
oh yes, please.