Sunday, January 3, 2010

I don't have time to maintain these regrets.

We are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking.
So Heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss,
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest,
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets,
When I think about the way He loves us.

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If He can move mountains, He can break habits, change our sinful desires, make the taste of old sin that we keep returning to flavorless and undesirable--He can break the window pane that separates us from the sunlight.

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