How can this be?
You make me holy,
a vessel for honor,
prepared even for glory?

And then you pour
and pour
and pour
your grace in me
but I can't contain it.

So it spills over
and over
and over,
But you keep pouring.
Why lavish so much on me?

You do this so I,
as an object of your mercy,
can look around and see clearly,
how kind you are
and how much you love me.

-Veronica Boulden


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