We’re all pretty rehearsed in convincing ourselves that we are good. We self-justify, assuming our good deeds balance the scale against our wrongs. But when we look at the person of Jesus–the embodiment of perfection–we see how pathetically wanting our standard really is. When we step into his light all our ugliness that once hid in the shadows is visible, and it’s horrific. But then he takes all our failures, throws away the scales, and changes everything. All we can do is fall before those nail pierced feet and say, thank you.

How bad can I really be?
Nearly all I do is good,
I do (most) of what I should.
I’m the hero of my story.

See the man in the street?
Turn away, he’s hearing voices.
I know I made better choices,
Besides, I threw dimes at his feet.

See that paper on my wall?
It proves I’ve answered right
(at least in the Institution’s sight)
It’s impossible that I’d Fall.

See my hours in fun pastimes?
If I pause, I feel a weak part,
A twinge of pain over my heart.
So what? It’s only sometimes.

See that cursed dirt hill?
It forces me into the Light,
And I don’t measure to height
It was for me Perfection did spill.

How bad can I really be?
I’ve been thieving glory,
That’s the truest story.
Oh God, the villain is me.