Sunday, August 14, 2011

Sunday Morning Poem

Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to your Cross I cling;
Naked, come to you for dress;
Helpless, look to you for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Savior or I die.

-Augustus Toplady on what it means to be “poor in spirit”

{Photo by Fabio Bartelt Photography}

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