By: Jana Greene
When we perceive God’s heavy hand,
See? He’s showing his disdain!
For the common core of man,
Those so doubtful of His reign.
But what if we misperceive
Our own egos as his voice,
The thunder, ire, and condemnation
In response to our own choice?
Or does God come softer still?
His love not found in angry roar,
But like a city on a hill,
Whose light beckons as an open door.
He, with mercy, looks below
With radical, offensive grace
By leaps and bounds we rise and grow,
And learn to seek his loving face.
It’s not by punishment we learn
The vastness of his love and care,
But by accepting that where we find ourselves,
He’s already there.
The Beggar's Bakery 