I am full of earth. You are heaven’s worth. I am stained with dirt, prone to depravity. You are everything that is bright and clean, the antonym of me. You are divinity. But a certain sign of grace is this: From the broken earth flowers come up pushing through the dirt. You are holy, holy, holy. All heaven cries, “Holy, holy God.” You are holy, holy, holy. I want to be holy like You are. You are everything that is bright and clean. And You’re covering me with Your majesty. And the truest sign of grace was this: From wounded hands redemption fell down, liberating man. But the harder I try the more clearly can I feel the depth of our fall and the weight of it all. And so this might could be the most impossible thing: Your grandness in me making me clean. Glory, hallelujah. Glory, glory, hallelujah. So here I am, all of me. Finally everything. Wholly, wholly, wholly – I am wholly, wholly, wholly – I am wholly, wholly, wholly…Yours. I am full of earth and dirt and You
It’s hard to believe that September 11 marks 22 years since the horrific terrorist attacks that forever changed the United States of America.