Forgive my fickle faith, Lord.
How it ebbs and flows with the tides of this world.
Forgive my cries of “Hosanna!” that melted into “Crucify Him!’
Forgive the blackness of my heart, shrouded in suffocating robes of sin.
Forgive my spit upon your face, my doubt that sheaths your grace.
Forgive my bitter spirit for producing such toxic words of hate.
Forgive my finger-pointing, and my pouting when you ask me to wait.
Forgive those thoughts that I entertain, that belong in the depths of hell.
Forgive those sins I love to hold. The ones you know so well.
Forgive my small attempts at reconciliation as I silently plot revenge.
Forgive my limping heart as it struggles to make amends.
Forgive the twisted humor that delights my depraved mind.
Forgive the state of my weakened resolve, forgive the mess within me that you find.
Oh God! How you forgave me this, and things I won’t even say out loud.
How you forgave this girl, this hypocrite, cheering in the crowd.
Oh how deep the grace that poured from the veins of your own Son.
Oh how blind, and mute, and deaf to your suffering I was.
Yet no rivers made from tears of my regret, will overwhelm this flood of grace.
For though I mourn on Friday, yet on Sunday I’ll see your face!
Sweet Lord whose blood was spilled on wood to set this captive free,
Thank you for not turning from the road to Calvary.
If it was I in your shoes, I know I would have changed my course.
But only you know the pain and joy of perfect love, for you alone are its source.
Teach me Spirit, day by day, to turn away from lies.
Teach me how to see the world through my kind Savior’s eyes.
Teach me how to die to self, with Christ as my example.
Bring me to repentance when my sin, on Him, does trample.
Bring me to the foot of the cross, but don’t let me forget the empty tomb.
Remind me to rise up again, for every sinner, grace makes room.