Stones
I walked by the glasshouse
Everything bad was quite apparent
I felt the stones in my pocket
That I thought I should throw
But then I felt them spike my feet
I was reminded from whence I came
The rock reproved me-
Are you so pure?
You- who were born from the dust
You -whom worms shall eat
I held my hand over my heart and my mouth
And I cried - for I recognized the rocky road
Upon which my Saviors feet did stride
I saw the pain and His bleeding feet
I saw the nail prints in His hands
And His wounded side
Then I realized something quite profound
It was not the nails that kept Him there
Bleeding out His life blood For ALL
But the ache that was in His heart
The pain of love - kept Him there-
I repented so deeply
For I understood
That it was He that has washed away my guilt
For I am forgiven - freely
And freely as I have received
I must too - freely give and feel the stones too
Under my feet.
© Brenda V Northeast 25/02/2012
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