Let me understand in practice
as well as theory
that my inner man:
my thoughts,
my heart,
are not hidden
after all.
When I smile,
give,
serve,
my all-knowing God
looks past
the outward appearance.
The careful dress,
busy hands,
worn Bible,
don’t hinder His searching gaze,
or erase
the suspicious thoughts
of another’s actions,
the suppressed smile
at another’s stumble,
the disapproval
of another’s liberty,
the silent groan
at another’s difference,
the gossip destroying
another’s reputation.
Let me understand
in practice
that my merciful Saviour
died for this.
The nail-pierced hands
that held me back from
judgement,
righteous wrath,
eternal death;
The sacrificial words
that left those lips
of grace,
kindness,
hope;
The wounded side
that spoke of life
given,
planned,
chosen
for me;
Should cause me to check
the critical thought,
the frustrated sigh,
the self-righteous swell.
And instead
praise Him for His
perfect example,
and pray to Him for grace poured in,
that will transform me
inside out.
Let not my external life:
appearance,
actions,
be just a mime
to the Lamb
who sees all,
hears all,
died for all.
Let my life be more than motions.
Let the well of my speech be sweet.
Let the abundance from my heart
bring glory.
Lord, let me have the joy
of inner man
directing outer;
motives,
thoughts and
speech
comparable
with His.
