Recreation of the Heart

I am not above racism
I would like to be
But none of us are

All of us are in chains
That is
Unless we have been freed
By some grace,
I have seen my own blindness
My own prejudice
My quiet hatred

And I would like to shout it from the mountain tops
Because I believe I can be freed
I want to be converted

Dear God
My Father
My Mother
Can you free me?
Won’t you free me?

I see your grace
raining down in my life
I see your grace
in someone else’s face
I want someone to see your grace
in my face, too.