WHERE GRACE RAINS
A Poem by Deborah Rutherford
Dear God,
here is my tender heart.
With you,
I am like a child again;
sunshine cascades:
A countenance of joy.
A rain shower,
Your tears,
a baptism
of soothing balm,
a river of love
lifts the veil.
Now, as an older woman,
Grandma age, some say,
Your love brings me back
to those precious days of purity.
Where grace rains,
a sweet aroma
pierces my soul and spirit,
marrow and bone.
Excavating debris
hiding in my crevice,
my flesh;
a holy fire purge
through showers
of celestial song.
Where grace rains,
droplets dance,
gentle but firm,
splashing wonder
soaking my earth.
You stripped shame;
dead pieces of me,
snapped away,
flushing
from head to toe.
A love
burst into my being;
I sparkle like jewels.
A love which bears my sin’s
weight and shackles
quenches my thirst.
I am forever
in your embrace,
ascending
in your pleasure
of preciousness
as grace rains down.
To know you love me
is everything,
my Savior,
who died for me;
cherished, I am.
I was undone,
but you put me back together
where grace rains,
and I run into your embrace
of liquid living water.
Washed clean,
purified
as grace rain
washes my sin wounds cool
like your gentle scars, anew.
I emerge a shiny new one,
glistening and fine-tuned,
a princess from the
dirt:
a new flower to bloom;
a new sunset rise;
a rainbow in the sky;
dancing in the rain.