Poem: Everything

Lord, let my hands do Your work,
Hands never spiked by malicious nails.
Lord, let my feet carry me where You call
For they were never pierced like Yours.

Where I can take breath let me speak
And share Your Gospel with all
For my side never saw a spear
Which ripped me open and drew my blood.

Jesus, I welcome sweat on my brow
Anywhere I serve You, my Master,
For it is not gashed with thorns
Like Yours with a crafted crown.

Let my back bear every burden
For by Your grace it is healthy and strong.
No whip has touched or marred it
Unlike Yours before You bore the Cross.

Lord, I am here for You alone.
You gave everything upon that Cross.
Let me do the same for You
As my offering and my thank You.

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