this is not who I am
this old sin-song I sing
a lingering melody
I did not pen
and it did not pin me
against myself
in Christ—I am free
in Christ—I am me
a whole creation from the start
I was living with a broken heart
in a world with a imperfect melody
its sin-sick song sang over me
a lullaby that kept me free
from the true freedom to be found
in the silence of a hushed crowd
straining to hear a new sound
of a freedom song, sung by Grace herself
a melody to truly set me free
a freedom found apart from me
the shattered self I thought I had to be
made whole by a new song
forever being sung over me by the God
who made me whole from the start
broken by the sin of man’s first heart
set ablaze a wildfire of destruction
descending into every generation
made whole, again, by a fountain of blood
an elixir of life
found in one man’s death
and again in mine
dying to the brokenness I’d resigned
to function as everyone else alike
made alive in this faith-made-sight
looking to a Savior, bound in light
binding me to Himself
forever whole, and free
singing this new melody
unchained by the sin-song
that still lingers in the sound
of the sinner-made-saint,
the lost-made-loved
singing this new song,
“Amazing grace, I am found.”
