I did not know that perfect love was mine,
wrapped up in swaddling clothes before my birth
and opened there upon the cross—the sign
that grants my meager soul its worth.
More thrilling than an ice-cold breeze on hot
and humid days, the moment when I knew
that I had been the object of His thought,
the unlikely subject of His devoted view.
And now I walk with Him in a clean, white gown
I can’t afford, held eternally
in sinless hands that brought love freely down,
the hands that took God’s wrath for me.
My heart could soar like eagles through the skies
at history’s most beautiful surprise.