Oh weight of Glory
My soul knows the story

Rise up again, hope my friend
My lack of worth, is not true

Nor the blue, gray state of mind
Remind me Father, of forward not behind.

A fresh breeze settles in
Lungs absorb the oxygen

Breath into me, the life giving word
Let it settle and rest, refresh me lord

Lies are like weights, we carry
Dumbbells around neck and knee

Crumbling, crushing, catastrophes
Do we need to carry these?

Are they real or imagined?
Help me Sift through to truth

Let your word be my sieve
Would it filter fruit, faithful friend

Goodness, trustworthiness, kindness
Holiness, joy, delight, sight

You Jesus broke the chains in my name. No further condemnation.

You descended to dread
And roses to bouquets of beauty

Fathom I cannot, what was done
In my place on or after the cross

Pain and suffering I know about
Not destruction, desolate duty, no doubt.

But. For the joy set before him,
He endured the scorn.

Thank you Lord that never do
I taste hell, the constant and bitter thirst

Nor do I dwell in misery, curses being constant. That I may pursue you
With the saints.

Thank you that your spirit whispers,
That the wind softly touches.

That needs are met, that hope
has a heros declaration of resurrection.

X marks the spot, then turned it marks the cross.

The beginning and end. The constant friend. The story that mends.

The stitch that saves. And poked holes toward the grave.

Threads of silk, spun from the most unlikely of saints.

Sin that taints, whitewashed with a type of crimson paint.