I am covered with soot,
My clothes sodden with dirt,
My spirit broken with hurt.
I pick up a brush in attempt to scrub off the murk.
Harder and harder I rub,
Until my skin is sore,
Still I know there is yet more,
More to wash away.
I ache to be clean and cry for the want of purity.
No amount of scrubbing removes the caked on filth.
The tears on my cheeks only harden the mud.
Up above, the sky cracks and shines with storm.
Rain from heaven comes,
Pouring over the dirt covering my body.
When the rain ceases,
And I am dry,
There is no longer any dirt to fry.
My clothes, purer than fresh snow,
My hair bright as a halo,
My skin all a glow.
I can feel the Lord beaming,
He sends down warmth from that high blue expanse,
Engulfing as an embrace.
In His smile He says,
“Behold, daughter, I have made you clean!”
(Photo and gif credit to Pinterest)
The Bookshop Barista 
Ouch my heart. That was sad (until the end) and beautiful. You are so inspiring and encouraging and so talented.
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Thank you! And aww, that really sweet. I don’t particularly think so but I’m glad I’ve inspired you. ☺️
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Ah remember what we talked about yesterday! Sometimes people see things in us that we don’t see. You’re amazing whether you know it or not.
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Using my own words against me. 😆 Thanks. You are too💕
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Wow… just wow! That’s amazing! I love this, you’ve put words to what I only thought could only be a feeling! This is very well written! Thank you so much for sharing this!
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Thank you! I’m so glad that it made you feel that way! You don’t know how touching that is.
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Wow! This was beautiful!
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Thank you!
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