My hands were filthy,
My heart was dark and hard.
My eyes were blind, my ears, plugged.
I was bent toward evil, running to pleasures that proved empty.
I hated truth and beauty.
I ignored conviction and sought approval in man.
But you, O God, did not let me stand.
I pierced you with my lies.
Your blood flowed from your side.
I still turned away.
I tried to do it on my own, this thing called life.
I ran farther. and let you take my stripes.
You welcomed me in, while I was yet a sinner.
In my darkness, you sought me out.
As your blood flowed and you suffered, you thought of me.
You picked me up and brushed me off, softening this heart of stoney debris.
I melted. I broke. I shattered at your feet.
At the love of a Savior, so great—who would give His life for a piece of rubbish.
Rubbish like me.
Yet in my brokenness and confession of my pride, you stood by my side.
The nails through your hands pounded so deep they found me.
I was crucified with you, the death of my flesh.
To the grave I went--once alive, now dead.
I was gone, and only you remained.
Dead for three days, now alive forevermore.
Jesus, you reign in this body of death.
Your name now engraved on my hands and my head.
My hands now clean, my heart now soft.
Your blood ran over; every inch of me new.
Now eternity rings in my heart every day.
Risen indeed is so easy to say.
For truly you live.
I can feel you now.
Interceding and pleading for my soul, but how?
You conquered death and you sit on your throne.
At the Father’s right hand,
It is your place alone.
So, this is my anthem.
I sing it aloud.
Take this life, now it’s yours.
For you found me out.
No need to hide anymore, I can live truly free.
Since now every day is Sunday to me.
