Addicted to Grace

It is not so much,
that I am addicted to grace,
But that grace is addicted to me,

And no matter the prison,
or the depth of the trap.
I am never not free.

It is love that will not let me go,
When I have rejected it,
It is hope that exists,
Within the shell of despair,
however low it is that I sit.

And spit,
my broken teeth out into the dust,
But not so broken as I,
Not so broken as trust,

Still It is that the deepest depths of despair,
Are not quite deep enough,
To stop his grace from going further,
Or to exhaust the resource of his limitless love,


When the wayward son had spent all he had taken,
And now longed to steal food from the swine,
The Father was stood out waiting,
And watching all the time,

The returning son expected punishment,
He expected to be demoted and bought low,
And even whether he would be allowed to stay,
He thought it would be touch and go,

I am no, longer worthy, he'd say,
To even be called your son,
And Dad you cant begin to imagine,
Some of the things I have done,
Take me as you servant,
Stripped of status and let me serve,
And I can only begin to tell you dad,
It's no more than I deserve,

And when the prodigal finally returned,
Stinking of pigs and drinking and whores
The father threw his arms around him instead
Threw a party and threw open the doors

He threw caution and reproach to the wind,
Threw a party and said  'it's all yours',
So don't slink over there in the corner,
Don't cower on all fours,
This love is for you,
This love, you know, is all yours,


It is not so much,
that I am addicted to grace,
But that grace has it's hold on me,

And no matter the prison,
or the depth of the trap.
I am never not free.

It is love that will not let me go,
When I have rejected it,
It is hope that exists,
Within the shell of despair,
however low it is that I sit.

And spit,
my broken teeth out into the dust,
But not so broken as I,
Not so broken as trust,

Still It is that the deepest depths of despair,
Are not quite deep enough,
To stop his grace from going further,
Or to exhaust the resource of his limitless love,
For God so loved the world,
That he gave his only Son,
That whosever believes in his name,
if they simply come,
Shall not perish, but live forever,
Never to be undone.

He paid the price,
the sacrifice,
So our debts are paid,
His perfect love,
Scares off our fears,
So we need never be afraid.

You may not be addicted to grace,
But grace is addicted to you,
It's love that'll never leave you,
Transforming you through and through.

You see we cannot outsin his grace,
We cannot outgive his love,
We cannot overestimate his patience,
His sufficient Love is always enough,

The answer is in the son,
The answer is in the son,
The son, Jesus is the one,

And it's not so much
That I'm addicted to grace,
Although I suppose that I am,
because when my best is not enough,
And I have done all that I can,
I need just a little bit more,
I have to have a little bit more,
There's always enough,
Love to go round,
to pick me up
And knock me back to the floor,
Jesus
I'm yours,
Now,
And evermore.

The Locust Years

The cracked, baked and scorched earth,
Speaks nothing of the hope of birth,
The hard ground,
The unbroken soil,
The charred remains,
Of last years toil,

The locust thief, who came and went,
Left nothing behind when he was spent,
And nothing burst into flame,
And took what was left after the locust came,

And what was left for us?
Devastation,
And mistrust,

And we surveyed the loss,
No accident of nature,
Did this,
To us,

This is his voice to us,
How threatening at first,
How dangerous,

We thought,

There is now nothing left to revive,
Nothing here has been left alive,

But,

Beneath the solid cake of earth,
Remained,
A seed,
Or root,
To birth,

We thought the fire had finished us,
But germinating within the crust,
Burried beyond all natural sight,
A sprout reaches out,
For a chink of light,
A remnant of what was planted remains,
Lies in waiting for the sound of rain,

A hope when hope was gone,
A way in the wasteland,
Where there once was none,

The latter rains they came,
And soaked the earth,
Once scorched by sun and flame,
Refreshed the soil once again,
Washed consciences and soothed the pain,

The latter rains;
They came,
And came,
They cleansed the ground,
Of bitter blame,
And blessed the earth,
Once again,

Now green shoots appear,
All across the earth,
The roots of hope and re-rebirth,
The open pastures are springing up,
The bread is baking,
The wine flowing over the cup,
And now the memory of all the lack,
Is gone,
And is,
Not coming back,

The Locust years are past,
And gone behind,
restored to us,
And restored to mind,

We have been faithless,
We have been blind,
But now we see,
And know he's kind,
(Slow to anger and quickly kind),

We return tyo him with all our hearts,
We can begin, we can restart,
Don't tear our clothes,
But break our hearts,
Into pieces,
Into parts,
He will rebuild.
We will be filled,

And wake
from dreamless sleep,
To dream the waking,
Dreams that keep,
The arresting visions of,
The Father's love,
Dealing wondrously with us,
As it is poured out upon all flesh,
Poured out,
and lavished,
On us,
Afresh.

"And If we ask,
He will come,
Send his rain,
On everyone".