We think we are nice people and lovers and saints.
We ignore how our failing and inequity taints
All the goodness and beauty our sensibility paints
For the poor heart and the sinner deep within.
We justify the beam in our mind’s inner eye
While the errors of our neighbor we condemn and we decry
And the hand of God we must second guess and forever question why
Because we will not see our choice to be as sin.
We will conquer. We’ll succeed.
We’ll survive. We will not bleed.
All the forces found about us we will crush and we will lead
Since no other do we find our friend or any brother do we need;
We are not to the likes of lesser men akin.
What a crock of human folly! What a blinded foolish mess!
We cannot acknowledge failure or our brokenness confess
Since we daily must feel close to God and so close to God must press
What is simply wounded, sinful, human spin.