I stand in this messy state of grace,
granted forgiveness,
cleansed from my soiled trace,
and dressed in gifted innocence -

yet
I still stand peering through my dark glass,
seeking my father's encountenance,
seeking to keep pace
with a Saviour who appears
to respect breathing space.
Although He is as quick with an embrace
as He is to displace my misplaced fearfulness,
in His presence I'm all too conscious
of lingering idols which were once in place,
now giving rightful pride of place
to this harbinger of grace.

Yet
I still stand peering,
longing for a fanfare,
hearing a distinct whisper,
feeling a familiar nudge,
and so I turn to His touch
in nervous obedience,
with a fragile confidence
growing only as I take a breath,
only as I take
this faithful, fateful step,
stating my allegiance
with every tread
through a messy state of grace,
ready for whatever I may face,
so Saviour, set the pace and lead on!