Lost in Being Found

All the steps of your race can be traced to the Throne of Grace. 

We are encased adjacent to heavens patient supply of amazement. 

If you hold still you can taste it.

The raw awareness of His care for us, brings reality to His narratives. 

As His air whisks through your lips, your lungs fill with bliss.

Your punishment was dismissed in His sacrificial gift.  

His DNA has been woven into what you hear and say, He is here today.

He showers us with hugs and kisses. If we could only see how He loves to assist us.

Forget 'spiritual fitness' Christ finished it and crowned us as Victors.

We are rivers that fill visitors with the definition of His wonderful whispers. 

So let His fuel of eternity burn with the cool certainty of you being worthy.

I called and He heard me, then He answered me like it was an emergency. 

Simply to assure me that His love for us has a faithful urgency.

Get lost in being found, face down at the cross laying down your crown. 

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