In the dust where my footfall faltered,
In the shadow of a fractured grace,
I brought a heart I could not alter,
To stand before the Holy Face.
Righteously unrighteous, bent and broken,
Cloaked in the truth of my own decay,
With no grand plea or polished token,
I walked the dark toward the light of day.
I sought the One who holds the suns,
Whose purity no fault can stain,
And found the arms of the Righteous One
Open to gather my guilt and pain.
Not after the wash, not after the mend,
But deep in the mire where I used to lie,
The Holy bowed down to call me friend,
And answered my frail, unworthy cry.
Now wrapped in a light I did not earn,
Where mercy and holiness tightly twine,
I rest in the grace for which I yearned—
His holy righteousness, forever mine.
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