The Lessons from Junk

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound

that broke the chains and set me free.

I wandered in the desert land,

blind and deaf—to never see, or ever hear

your voice crying out to me.

My feet were reluctant every day as you drew near to me.

I wanted nothing more than to run away, to flee from you!

My flesh was torn [do I stay put or escape?],

but you called my name!

You know me better than anyone else,

every flaw and mistake,

yet here you are!

How marvelous, how wonderful!

Somehow, you still haven’t left me.

You’d think after all these years of telling you my varying degrees of junk,

I’d have realized that you meant everything that you said.

I don’t leave, I don’t abandon.

My grace is enough [and if you didn’t mess up, you wouldn’t understand that I never will].

I’m still working on you—I’m not finished yet.

You worry too much.  Stop.

I never change, and so far I’ve taken care of you.  So will it be forever.

I hold all the love you seek—I satisfy completely.

Your simple human mind may not see, but I’m working for your good.

[Just because life is often hard does not negate that.]

[In fact, these hard times are some of the best growing environments.]

[Don’t lie—you know it’s true.]

I am God. 

Through many dangers, toils, and snares

I have already come;

day by day, you lead me on—

this grace is my everlasting hope.