How can I describe this felt reality?
A sense that takes my breath away,
Your grace redresses my sick morality,
Without you I have literally nothing to say.
Nothing I have and nothing have I to give,
But for the sacrifice of gratitude and praise,
So I stand here so amazed to live,
Because ‘me’ you have sought to raise.
Engulfed in wonder and given to the surreal,
Me, knelt and absorbed, in your loving embrace,
How am I to believe this grace is for real?
To ponder incredibly—the turning of your face.
You are good—holy good, my wonderful covenant Lord,
Beyond my wildest imagination,
Well past wonder you’re to be adored,
As you grip my doting fascination.
Without you, Lord, I am nothing; indeed, we—humankind—are nothing.
You make it possible that we live, that we can live, that we do live.
Lord, you are everything.
© 2013 S. J. Wickham.