Going Home? | Nick Cox

Another stone, so round and smooth
to lie within my belly, it will not move.
A piece of dirt, so foreign, so plain,
to swallow, once more, like my guilt and shame.
And now dirt and stones in my body they mix,
just a vain attempt, this pain and anguish to fix.

But to come home to you, father, is what my heart cries.
Yet my sin, so great, always before me now lies.
And that you might not accept me, is really why,
I stay here in this place, with these pigs, so certain to die.

Oh my Lord, lift me up out of this mire
That I might see Your love, gaze in your eyes
And feel wanted, cared for and belonging
Not shunned, cast-out, empty and longing.

So, now I will cast aside this repulsive sty
To begin the journey home to you and fly
Away from this hovel that hides your face
And dwell once again in your love and grace.