His Grace

Raining Grace


Sweet rain —

Soft and cool, it gently falls on my uplifted face,

Slowly tracing the soiled surface,

Drawing the heat and worry of this world

to Him.

It cleanses my troubled spirit,

Infusing me with His pure, sweet essence,

Filling me beyond lack,

Beyond hunger,

Beyond flawed self.

“Do you love me?” rises unbidden from my core.

What is it to be loved by God, to be known by Him.

“Do you love me?” I deserve it not, well I know, so I ask,

My soul crying out “Why” to His affirmation.

“Because I made you.  I knit you together

In your mother’s womb.

I would not create you with such care

If I did not love you.”

Grace now pours over me,

An unstoppable torrent.

I am dancing under the fount of

Every blessing,

Drenched, clean,

And refreshed.


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