It was almost easier before,
Don’t drink
Don’t smoke
Don’t cus
Don’t hang with those who do.
It was all about me….really
and what I did
to appear holy
righteous,
without blame
Yet now its almost harder
attitudes and assumptions
lurk beneath the
veil of my “holiness”
But still I am comforted by the
gentle call
a quiet but insistent
plea,
Whispering….Whispering….
“Was that the best way to say that?”
“You could pick up that trash.”
“Don’t tell them you paid for that.”
“You can sing for me with perfect pitch
But if you won’t forgive , I cannot hear a note.”
“Could you spend an hour with me?”
Before I was afraid of all I did,
Now I amazed by all I cannot….
Sorrow as the world knows,
Cannot compare
To the motivation
Of not offending Grace.