How

I'm not quite sure that I hear You,

but I feel You tugging at my heart.

It seems so long that You've been watching, waiting

waiting for me to realize how much I need You.

I think I'm starting to understand,

and yet a part of me is still fighting your love.

How is it that You, so perfect, so holy,

can look on me with love?

You know my every fault, have seen all my mistakes;

and still, You love me.

Since the beginning of time,

You have called me your own, your daughter,

knowing that I would reject You, deny You...

And still You sent your perfect Son to this place

to bear not only my sins, but the sins of the world,

as hanging on that tree, He shed his blood to cover me.

All this I know,

and yet I struggle to believe.

Wretched sinner that I am,

vile, unworthy, a heart of solid stone;

I don't understand, Father.

Lord, how can You love me?