He told me, “Your sins are forgiven.”
The Father to whom I confessed.
My brain knows, but is overshadowed
By my heart, which cannot feel Grace.
I fear I will not understand Grace
Until I feel it incarnated, instead of the abstract
Which it is now.
I am told of a God who gives grace,
Yet there is so little among these images
God has made of himself, as they call
I am a sinner, deserving a spite
Which some are happy to give.
Trying to believe in a God of forgiveness
Against the graceless nature of the world.