If I were a canvas, here's how it goes.
The color is awful, material ragged, and I'm covered in holes.
If I were drawing, I have to speak true.
It would be the worst thing looked at that's ever been drew.
If I were the sticks of wood holding the material together.
I'm rotted, weak and ugly as ever.
This is truth about the painting that is me.
But this not the picture my God will allow you to see.
He has painted this canvas with the brightest, blood like red.
He has drawn on this canvas with a nail like led.
The strength He has spilled upon my frame
takes the weakness of my exterior, makes it strong until there is no shame.
He has caused me to stretch myself until there is not one single hole.
For me to be one, complete, whole picture was His goal.
To this canvas, God daily adds His no blemish paint.
If I were a person, you'd call me a saint.
He told Himself I was worth it. Worth every drop.
His blood ran like a river so the picture of my life He could crop.
Cut out the unholy, unrighteous and impure.
Replace it with glory, set a flame in my soul and stir!
Now here I am, a piece of God's art.
If you are still a decaying canvas, give God the brush and let Him start.
