Grace

Through fog of fear and doubt
The Devil whispers, "Sin, sin, sin."
Standing outside the door of hope,
His taunts refuse to let me in.

"Go away!" my tortured spirit cries,
I remember sin of the past,
Tattooed on my soul like graffiti
Or a dirty word iron-cast.

Through fog of fear and doubt
The Spirit whispers, "Grace, grace, grace!"
I wonder why, and where, and how
But I dare not look up--exposing my dreadful face.

"How can it be?" I mutter through chapped lips.
No, my sin is too awful to be written off for free.
My soul shrinks back to count my good deeds:
Like pennies I count them hopefully.

Through fog of fear and doubt again
The Spirit whispers, "Grace, grace, grace!"
My dirty fingers grasp the last little copper
Then my pocket is empty of the last trace.

Pockets inside out, hands upraised
I try to grasp the door handle and enter
But the Devil says mocking,
"You're no better than me--despair forever!"

Through fog of fear and doubt yet again
The Spirit whispers, "Grace, grace, grace!"
I cry out in anguished, stubborn misery:
"I can't believe such a foolish grace!"

My mind is spinning like a child's top,
I'm trying desperately to comprehend
This foolish thing called grace.
"What fire has my brain for a friend!"

Through fog of fear and doubt
The Spirit whispers, "Grace, grace, grace!"
"You are dirty, but I will wash you--come as you are,
The Master delights to save in this very place."

A hand that is mine reaches up once more.
But the door is already open
I see myself as in a dream:
Expression screwed up, suspicious, like a wren.

Through fog of fear and doubt
My Master says, "Grace, grace, grace!"
"I have done it by grace,
Leave your pennies--lose them in my embrace."

A forgiven princess I stand:
Coronation robes surround me with grace for thread
Perfect obedience of the Master
Crowning my transformed head.

And the Spirit whispers, "Grace, grace, grace!"