as hope wains for the bruins, hope springs anew for the broken.
my hope is built on NOTHING less than Jesu crist's righteousness.
it is not my righteousness, for i have none. i'm broke& poor, broken, a cracked clay pot.
in the jars of broken vessels made of clay. i'm useful.
my heart laughs with GOd.
my smile exudes my joy.
my mind is clear, and let me lend my ear, to the sweet sweet saintly voices of giggling children, jolly adults, singing women, and peaceful sighs.
in times of trouble, he is the bridge.
in times of darkness, he is the light
in times of despair, he is my hope.
and when he calls, here i am.