Wednesday, February 04, 2009

The Father's Robes

What senseless toil
Have we done,
We the lost, the wayward?
What suffering have we begun?

We wallow in senseless action
After senseless action.
We find ourselves lost;
We find ourselves without satisfaction.

We cast away our reborn state
To live in discord, disdain,
In a world man has made,
Not a city where angels trod.

But we turn to Him,
No matter our state,
To seek His grace,
To find our true place.

We wait, in our father's robes,
For the day where all are free—
Free from the bondage of sin,
Free to be with our gracious father—our God.

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