Who am I who, filled with lust,
should have the favor of purity?
Who am I who has hated men
would feel the arms of love
wrapped around my wounded heart...
Who am I in disbelief would find
A God who never leaves me?

All the things I long to count as lost
I count as gain
And I do not feel as I am worth the time
he puts into me.
Who am I to even question this time He has
put into making me complete again.
He is not through with me yet!
Oh the hope I have that he would deliver me
from the snares of all my sins that would
make a reader blush.

I am guilty of all you can imagine!
I am not a saint. I am not worth paying any mind to...
I am only begging that you would see him through
what evil I have comitted in his eyes.
See that I am still alive and some mornings even
full of glorious light!

See his hands wrapped around me!
See his patience!
See his purity!
He is the light of the morning
beams of light are his eyes.
A light not of the earth
that passes with the day,
but a light not taken for granted
as He faithfully removes
the scales from our eyes