Literature
It Doesn't Make Sense
It doesn’t make sense to me
When one more worthy than me
Leaves His place of honor
And begins to take the lowest seat,
Next to me where I sit ashamed,
Where I only have myself to blame,
Thinking to myself “I don’t belong
Because of everything I’ve done wrong.”
It doesn’t make sense to me
As I ask Him why one so worthy
Would come to take this seat by me.
I’m so unworthy and unholy.
Why would He come to soothe my fears?
Why would He in love hold me so dear?
With joy He takes that lowest seat
And, as His Father calls Him up higher,
He walks hand and hand with me,
Assuring me that I belong,
Rejoicing ove