And I smile.

{here}

Work.

Strive.

Earn.

It is the only economy I know.

Broken.

My congressman could attest to that.

Broken.

I am the daughter of emptiness.

Through the shards of what is my life, I look.

I see, but don't understand.

What is this thing called grace?

Over spoken and under shown in America's church.

I bring my baggage with me on Sunday.

I try, I strive, I work.

I am frustrated.

Why don't I earn?

It comes in the quiet.

While the shower is still heating.

After the music is turned off and I am focusing on staying between the lines.

It's not about me.

It's not about what I have done or what I will do.

It's all about Jesus.

It's about what He has done.

It is about who You are.

Gracious.

It's who You are.

And I soak on that.

In the warm water.

In the silence, in the dark confines of my mind.

It is Your nature.

And I smile.

Stemming from the soul, it is what these lips were made for.

{heart}
Kel