measuring the results of
weeks of preparation:
dieting to shed unwanted pounds,
hair appointment
to color, cut and style,
seeking help with makeup
a long neglected skill,
searching stores for
just the right dress,
trying on dozens of pairs
of shoes.
Hearing a little Grandson say,
"You look good Grandma!"
Feeling ready for the wedding feast.
One more moment to pause,
to stand before You,
the One whose approval matters most.
You turn me inside out,
revealing secret places
only You can see.
I stand in filthy rags,
heart stained with marks of sin,
nothing hidden.
You dip Your brush
into His blood, scarlet and pure,
covering the marks of
failure and rebellion.
You strip the filthy garment
from my spirit
and clothe me in the
spotless linen of His righteousness.
You turn me around,
look with eyes filled
with grace and love,
take my hand and
walk with me to the wedding feast.
Isaiah 64:6 (New Living Translation)
"We are all infected and impure with sin.
When we display our righteous deeds,
they are nothing but filthy rags.
Like autumn leaves, we wither and fall,
and our sins sweep us away like the wind."
Revelation 19:8 (American Standard Version)
"And it was given unto her that she should array herself in fine linen, bright and pure: for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints."
Joining my sweet friend Emily today at imperfect prose
Blessings,
Linda
