When I came to the lord,
When I really came to the lord,
I had a needle stuck in my femoral
And dried blood crusted upon my groin.
I was a shadow looming at the foot of his robe,
Yearning for healing.
He scooped me up
As any father would
And kissed my forehead.
He looked upon my eyes,
Not in disappointment,
But in love.
He held me up to the father,
“It is by my stripes he is healed.”
He knew everything that would come to pass in the future.
He knew, today,
That I would be struggling
With my own fleshly DNA.
He still decided to make the investment,
To work the process of change in me.
The difference is,
Today I belong to him.
He was just wanting to call me His.