| Whiter than snow, yes, whiter than snow,
Now wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Ithaca, oh Ithaca, snowing during April. ... and Easter. For I am not worthy to be whiter than snow, I am filthy, tanned, God.
Nothing can cleanse me, there are too many hidden spots, to many creases where sin piled up, is piling up.
And yet God, even though I am so unworthy, I am still worthy in your eyes, for I am created in your image.
I am, we are, we theives, whores, murders, liars, adulters, sinners, are worthy enough in your eyes for you to send Your most precious, beloved son to the midst of this grosteque world, to redeem us.
And by Jesus' death, the Holy lamb of God, by His sacrifice, all our sins are washed away. Jesus died for me, because of me. And on the third day, rose again, to claim to all that He is God. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.... for today the snow shall wash me clean. |
