| The Privilege of Grace by Mary Carter Mizrany |
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Grace does not ask Where have you been, With whom are you walking; Committing such sin ... In those tattered rags Of self-will, sin-stain; Deceived by the father And "Author of Pain". Grace does not question Your motives and plans, Outrageous behavior that Rebellion demands ... Your sensual pleasures That are temporal and fleeting; Disinterest in spiritual And Heavenly meeting. Grace gently whispers "Your Saviour sent me To open your blind eyes That, dear one, you'll see ... That Old Rugged Cross With its Occupant, so sweet, Feel the touch of his blood As you kneel at his feet. Open your needy hearts As you look upon his face. Ahhh, then shall you taste The Privilege of Grace!" |
| © 2003 Mary Carter Mizrany |
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