and only half-heartedly mean?
We pray for traveling mercies and healing.
We ask for guidance and another's wayward return.
"Forgive them for they know not what they do."
And yet, does any of us?
We take communion and lunch.
We read scripture and novels.
We ask for clarity and faith
While wincing at God's methods.
How can any finite being
Perceive the depth of his words
Within himself and upon that infinite God?
But we say it all the same—
"Come into my heart, Lord Jesus"—
For our words' power resides not
In the assessment of our own understanding
Nor in the purity of our honesty.
By my own sincerity, I am not saved.
Forgive me, Father,
I do not know what I say.
But You do.
And in that Word I stand
Secure enough to utter my words to you,
Imperfect made right by your blood.
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Alicia