Is loving kindness in our nature
when we walk by the fallen folks?
We love to judge them, that's for sure,
and count ourselves the solid oaks!
How did it happen that in our hearts,
which breathe His breath and taste His favor,
the seed of mercy which got its start
can never grow or spread its flavor?
We turn away from amazing grace,
and convince ourselves it can't be right
to bask in light of a Gentle face,
so choose to live in Angry-God's sight.
We think our God is way too holy
to bless His children when they are wrong.
We'd rather think He judges solely-
that when they fall they can't belong.
Until our roots dive down in meekness
and drink from a deeper, purer sea,
we live alone, and steeped in weakness
we turn our hearts from Mercy's tree.
A kinder justice than we would wield,
our sword would bring them to their knees,
but His gentle Mercy-Garden's yield
is a stronger, taller breed of trees.
Shoulder to shoulder in fact we stand.
Like trees on a hill we're all the same-
we're all in need of a gentle hand.
And He knows and plants us all by name.
A mighty river His mercy flows
and swirls around each dusty heart.
Through every crack His Life-wind blows
and brings a healing fresh new start.