AM I A CANVAS,

WHO CONTINUES TO PAINT

ON THE SAME SCRATCHED AND MARRED

SURFACE?

OR AM I A CANVAS

WHOM GOD CONTINUES TO

MAKE NEW

AND WHOM HE LOVES AND CHERISHES

EVEN WHEN IT IS HARD TO NOT HATE THIS SURFACE

OF MINE, IN WHICH HE PAINTS NEW AND

LOVES EVERY MORNING?

(honestly quite hard to say anyone [of this world] loves me, without asking them first and then asking them each day if the love is still there)