All I have to offer
Are these poor rags,
My poor attempts
To “be somebody”.
All You ever wanted
Was for me to be happy
Just for being alive,
For being created by You.
Redemption has transformed
My rags into riches.
My thread is woven
Into the beautiful tapestry
Of Your creation.
Still, I sigh and moan
While on this earth.
But all will be well.
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