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.