Robes from rags
Oh, Irony!
How you frequent the halls of my life!
Of course, much of what I deem ironic is providential in its core.
I love being here, but I wish I could be home, as well. Just move Fort Wayne and make it a suburb of RIchmond. lol. That wouldn't quite work, as Fort Wayne is only slightly smaller than Lexington. The funny thing is, it's not for me, it's for others. I feel like I need to be there with you all. I'm not good at letting go. Not that I could make that much of a difference on my own. Of course, if God by His grace can work through me, He can work through others while I am here. I just have to trust Him.
Is this the strange feeling
Of you working all to good
'Cause I am so confused
I don't even ask for what I should
When I asked for and deserved a stone
You broke and gave your body as bread
And even the stone that dropped down and rolled away
Spoke of the one who bled
There you go working good from my bad
There you go making robes from my rags
There you go melting crowns from my calves
There you go working good of all I have
Till all I have's not that bad
When I asked for and deserved a serpent
You gave a net full of fish
And even the serpent that told the lie
When lifted high foretold the gift
For you so loved the unlovable
That you gave the ineffable
That who so believes the unbelievable
Will gain the unattainable