The Father’s Fervent Grace
My hair all matted, my clothes all stained,
I reeked of mud and spoiled grime;
Plagued with hunger that always remained,
Forced to work in the fields of the livestock
My people would consider a crime.
My inheritance robbed, my friends all gone,
I recalled the servants of my father’s house.
They were always well fed with a place to lay their head.
Upon the sweet thought, I headed home
to be rid of the louse.
My lips chapped, my feet sore,
I was still far off upon the sudden warm embrace.
Tear-struck eyes overflowed, my father’s love still at his core.
Wrapped in the finest robes and well-worn sandals,
Reminded forevermore of His fervent grace.
– Kenzie Tenpas writes from Manitou Springs, CO.
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