O God, what are the limits of Your grace?
Is not Your grace for me unlimited?
Does not the Hound of Heaven always chase
my soul for which Your Sacred Heart has bled?
And yet Your masterplan has made me free
to turn my back on You and to resist
Your grace, Your law, Your own divine decree
of love from Him I slap though blest and kissed.
Yet I detect grace comes in many ways--
in strength, in mercy, inspiration true,
it zaps, explodes, it whispers, zigzags, stays,
chastizes me and gently draws to You.
From ambush, God, despite my stubborn pride,
Your grace, amazing, worms its way inside.
-- by Pete Voelz 1/08
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