The Jesus I Know

When I look in the mirror,

history comes to haunt me‐

as if I'm not a new creation...

I wish it were laughable, but‐

to this day...

what stands in my past continues to mock me.

When I look into my own eyes,

the most hideous of sin tries to lay it's face over mine‐

as if I'm not fearfully and wonderfully made...

I wish it were laughable, but‐

to this day...

what lies in my past continues to write lies into my present.

When I hear my own voice,

I try to refrain from disgust‐

putting my past life and self to rest...

I continue to speak,

hoping that, it is not me that is heard...

but HE

This war on perception,

a battle already won...

that I'm still fighting, but

not on my feet...

but rather, on my knees...

and again, to this day.

Now, the world may question that,

and the public might not understand‐

I don't expect it to...

but with that I say,

ask away

please, ask me about the Jesus I know.