the seventy-seventh time

I can't bear to see Your face

I traipsed around the tempting pit
wondering of the fun I'd missed
and fell face first into the hole
from leaning in too far--and this, for the seventy-seventh time

Only a memory, now
white is death of black to me--white's a shade I can't recall
I know the depth of my damnation and the wretched nights I spend
wondering why I took one step too far
in the wrong direction

I am dirt to the prodigals
an exploiter of mercy and swindler of grace
my soul is char
my heart is bare
and sin's burned through my skin

I'm sure that this will be the end
Pride has a death-grip 'round my throat
and I can't even cry for help
though my being screams within
I'm in too deep
I'm in too deep--for the seventy-seventh time

then a whisper like a memory
like a memory, but ageless
and through the blackening of my sight
I see a sword slash through my pride
and strength gives out, at last

Awakened as if from a dream
to a warmth of pulsing grace
"I'll never let you from my gaze or cease to make you clean."

And now my dress is white again
whiter than it's ever been
You've bleached me
with Your love

for the seventy-seventh time.