Poem

Unable to sleep, contemplating the damage that sin does to ourselves and those around us, I wrote this poem.

I am not perfect

But I am not worthless

I am broken

But I am not rubbish

God chose to love me

When I was unlovely

My shame was erased

When I called out to Christ

In Him I placed my hope

Redeemed by His blood

Washed pure as snow

Clothed in white robes

Adopted by the King

Thus, this flesh is not the end

I know, forgiven I am

And forsaken I am not

April 25, 2009