This poem is called "Living"
To live is Christ, to die is gain
Two worlds apart, the second not the same
Teach me something else.
I know how to die, I know how to die.
If I’m living and breathing, I am sinning and cheating
Why?
Haven’t you seen my heart?
Why, why would you want me set apart?
Who else can reach the lost, but the lost?
The broken and beaten
God chose me, because me is we.
There is power in peers and there’s freedom in tears
I am the image of the unimaginable God.
A broken one at that, but still chosen as His light.
A broken ambassador to a broken world.
A forgiven son reaching out for my forgiving Father.
Tell me this:
What does it mean to run after holiness?
Distinct perfectness?
Impeccable speech?
A downward sullen face?
or blisters on my feet?
I am running.
I am tripping.
I am falling.
But the Lord looks at his son
and I receive grace upon grace upon grace.
What else to do, but get up and run.
What untamable grace; a gift not won.
Freely given to the undeserving son
This gift I have been given is not mine to keep;
I must find a flock and tend His sheep.
Inspired by Phil. 1:21
