Beckett: Poetry – No. 1300, Christ’s Blood

There I stand about to sin,
quenching the Lord’s Spirit,

God’s wisdom behind.
What was that moment for which I sinned?
Without God’s wisdom, about to sin,
I find it so convincing,
blindly diving into it.

How easy it is to fall,
though the grace I tend to leave
is never far gone.
O, God’s adoration for His child
is a grace I cannot fathom!
Though I repent daily,
in His grace I remain.

When sin creeps up on me,
He hears all my pleas
begging to forgive me.
Before the Cross I stand,
therewith Him my sins are nailed,
and my sins cease to be.
Without hesitation,
my God forgives me.

When I look upon the Cross,
I know what is real.
When sin is convincing
and its shame tortures me,
before the Cross I finally realise:
Christ’s blood covers me.

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