I have nothing to offer,
but my filthy mind, soul, and heart.
Would You still accept me, God?
Would You still choose me?
I am tainted.
Corrupted.
Would You still be willing to welcome me?
Am I still worthy of Your love?
All I have are thoughts.
Sometimes they aren't even good and holy.
I get it that I am forgiven.
Saved by grace, forever, my Lord.
Then, why?
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
You look down from Your throne,
And I wonder what You think of me.
Do You despise me now or do You still love me?
There is so much wickedness in me.
Will You cleanse me?
Purify with me with Your unending love.
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It's Not About Us (But What If It's About Us)
PoetryHe / She simply doesn't like us. Period. Sometimes it's hard to get that. That the idea is too foreign. We keep on asking and telling ourselves, "Why not? I am a limited edition, he / she will not find anyone like me." There is a bunch of reasons th...
